


So What Happens Next?

by Zerrat



Series: So What Happens Next? [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XIII
Genre: Angst, Behind the Scenes, F/F, Femslash, Romance, Unreliable Narrator
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-17
Updated: 2012-09-30
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:18:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 90,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153075
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zerrat/pseuds/Zerrat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The more anxious you get, the closer to cieth you become, so Lightning is going to have to sort out her issues before they consume her. Old, bitter regrets, confusion, jealousy – the journey to Oerba is dangerous enough without being your own worst enemy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vallis Media

**Author's Note:**

> Non-compliant with FFXIII-2. 
> 
> Additional warnings: unhealthy thought patterns, biases that negatively skew towards symptoms arising from trauma, coping mechanisms that really make the situation so much worse. 
> 
> Please note that 'unreliable narrator' is in full effect with this fic.
> 
> Minor edit on 1 July 2012, to update the first three chapters so as to match the version on FF.net (I forgot to update this version at the time). Minor edit 8 September 2012 for scene break issues and typos.

Their fourth day on Pulse was growing to a close, and the shadows cast by the sheltering rocks were growing long and dark against the golden-washed plains of the Archylte Steppe.

Base camp wasn't far off from here, Lightning noted as she wearily slid her weapon back into its holster. She winced at the fresh pain in her shoulder, and rubbed the joint. It was nearly impossible to deflect a King Behemoth's swing, even with the damned l'Cie advantages they'd been 'blessed' with. Lightning scowled at the thought. Her shoulder was still going to hurt like a bitch in the morning, even with the soothing cure spell she'd cast afterwards. Maybe she'd have Hope take a look at it, back at camp.

Snow and Sazh trailed a few paces behind her, discussing that day's miserable lack of findings in low voices. Another day on Pulse, another day they reported back at base with nothing to say for their missions. When they'd chosen to come to Pulse, they'd really had no idea of exactly how deserted this place would be. There were only the ruins of a dead world, monsters and the agonized howls of the cie'th in the dead of the night.

Lightning made a small sound of derision in her throat. No matter what Fang claimed, this place really was hell.

As the three made their way back into the base camp, Snow jogged forwards to join her. Lightning shot him a look out the corner of his eye, and he wisely thought better of touching her shoulder, lowering his hand to his side. Dusk deepened as they passed between the huge rocky walls of Vallis Media, and Lightning had to wonder if Fang, Vanille and Hope had fared better than her squad had. She'd welcome _any_ report now, good or bad.

"Hey, Light, you sure you're fine?" Snow asked her, matching her stride easily. "Those King Behemoths can put a load of oomph in their swings."

"Nothing I can't handle." Simpler to just believe in the lie, rather than putting a burden on those around her. Stress was the last thing they all needed. She clenched her fist to stop herself from touching the l'Cie brand on her chest.

 _Don't think about it_.

The path opened up, and the camp came into view. Vanille and Hope sat cross-legged by the fire, engaged in a game that Lightning couldn't recognize – probably something from Gran Pulse. Vanille was painstakingly showing Hope the proper sequence of handclaps, singing a quiet but upbeat song in a foreign tongue, and Hope was laughing as he continued to get the hand movements wrong. It was good that Hope had left behind his burning need for vengeance, and that he could still remember how to act like the boy he was. She forced herself to relax, to ease the tension between her shoulder blades.

Fun and games had been difficult enough to come by in the past few days, as the anxiety over their Focus had skyrocketed.

"About time you lot made it back," said a voice, coming from the shadows to Lightning's right.

Lightning jerked to awareness, cursing herself. Just like that, and her forced sense of relaxation was shattered by the twang of that Pulsian accent. She'd been far too wrapped up in her own thoughts, so she hadn't even noticed that Fang had been standing there, shadowed by the growing darkness. Fang stepped into the fading light of the Pulse sun, a smirk on her lips and her bladed pole propped against one shoulder.

That light, mocking tone and raised eyebrow made Lightning scowl at her. Just how much searching had Fang's group had actually done? She looked Fang up and down with a critical eye – no obvious signs of tiredness or exhaustion. They had probably spent the day fooling around, while she, Sazh and Snow searched Pulse high and low for any sign of life.

Lightning's mood darkened. Fang and Vanille's eagerness to go back to their home world had been the deciding factor in coming. The least the two could do was help find the civilisation they were so damn certain existed.

"We were doing what we were meant to be doing," Lightning told Fang stiffly, pushing past her and into the encampment, to where Hope and Vanille were still sitting. Hope looked up at her with a grin as he failed the next set of hand movements. With more effort than seemed reasonable, Lightning forced the scowl off her face. There was no reason to take out her irritation with Fang on Hope. He was blameless, just a kid who was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 _Wrong place at the wrong time._ It was the story of Hope's life, really.

"Vanille's teaching me some Gran Pulse games," Hope explained, and Vanille nodded empathetically with his words. "It helps keep your mind off the Focus."

"It's something the l'Cie did, back before," Vanille added, giggling lightly.

Sazh let out a long-suffering groan as he stretched his body before the fire. The chocobo chick living in his hair chirped at the sudden warmth, emerging from the makeshift nest and plopping itself into Sazh's outstretched palms.

"In that case, you should teach me some of that," Sazh said. "Could do with takin' my mind off everything, just for a while."

"Then I take it you guys didn't have any luck today, either." Lightning sighed then, resting a hand on her hip. Her shoulder still ached from the blow. Easy enough to ignore for now, while they had business to attend to.

"C'mon, guys. We gotta hold ourselves together," Snow announced, pumping a fist as he strode into the warm circle of light around the fire. The leader of Team NORA was always the picture of vitality and energy, and while sometimes his boundless optimism grated, his faith in their Focus and his determination to lift their spirits was oddly reassuring.

"We're going to save Cocoon and get rid of these l'Cie brands. I can feel it."

Vanille sprang to her feet at Snow's declaration, grabbing Hope's hand as she rose. He stumbled a little as Vanille dragged him up, but the lines of worry that had marked the boy's face since the Purge were smoothing out.

Lightning crossed her arms over her chest, smiling a little. Snow certainly had a gift for inspiring people, though sometimes it felt like the blind leading the blind. His heart was in the right place, she supposed.

"What can I say? You Cocoon folk have some odd ways of dealing with pressure," Fang said, her voice amused as she left her sentry post for the warmth of the fire. "Not that I'm complaining."

"Right! And there's nothing wrong with that!" Vanille declared, spinning on her toes and launching herself in Fang's general direction.

Lightning averted her eyes as Fang laughed and caught her 'attacker', swallowing hard to banish the tightness in her throat that seemed ready to suffocate her. It seemed to ease when she looked aside. The thing was, it was happening more and more often now.

She looked down at her hands. They were clenched, so hard that her bones ached, all the way up to her burning shoulder. The laughter, the adoration and ease with which the two of them related –

It would be so easy to just put it down to jealousy, that they had the sisterly relationship that Lightning had never _had_ with Serah.

Lightning had grown up too fast. Weighed down by the mistaken notion of protecting her only family by becoming strong, she'd drifted from Serah, until it seemed like they'd lived entirely different lives. Now it was too late, Serah was gone and all Lightning was left with was those bitter words, back on her birthday.

Exhaling sharply, Lightning forced her hands to open, coldness spreading through her body. Yes. Just envy and regret.

With practiced ease and an iron will, Lightning forced her surging emotions down, until they wouldn't dare show on her face, or sound in her voice.

Lightning drew the blazefire saber out of its holster, a distorted mirror of her face staring back at her apathetically. Cold and serene, like the edge of a blade. That was what her training with the Guardian Corps had told her. She lowered the blade, nodding to herself.

"I'm going to take a patrol of the perimeter," she said to the rest of the group, and was almost surprised at how little emotion there was in her voice.

Hope looked up at her as she moved away from the light of the fire, his eyes questioning. "Do you need a hand?"

"I'll be fine," Lightning said, as she brushed his worry off brusquely. She forced herself to look away, because Hope didn't deserve this coldness, not after all he'd suffered since the Purge in Bodhum. But if she let any emotion out now, it'd all come and then –

Then what? She didn't really know. A part of her… didn't really want to know. Her cowardice rankled, and she resolved to address that weakness soon.

"Seriously?" Sazh asked, from where he was stretched out, poking idly at the fire with a stick. "On Pulse? With all those nasty critters roaming around? Alone?"

Lightning couldn't bring herself answer him, and instead turned her back on her comrades. She just needed a little time alone, time to think. If that meant leaving for a few hours, so be it. Before the others could ask any more questions, Lightning vanished into the deepening twilight.

###

The unlikely group of l'Cie were quiet for a few moments in the wake of Lightning's abrupt departure, exchanging looks that varied from amused, wary, to outright incredulous. As Lightning's heavy footsteps faded away into a silence only broken by the crackling of the fire, it eventually fell to Snow to interrupt it.

"Hoo boy," Snow muttered, removing his bandana and running his fingers through his mussed, blond hair. Fang raised an eyebrow at him. Was he going to bother following that _encouraging_ reaction up with an explanation? Snow was the one who'd known her the longest, despite their somewhat rocky beginnings.

When no such explanation seemed forthcoming, Fang sighed loudly. Maybe it was time to do a bit of some good-old-fashioned sleuthing. Time was, she'd been good at that. Well, she amended, as she eyed Vanille. So far, she hadn't been able to corner Vanille to talk about their past and their old Focus, so Fang supposed she might not be so good as she remembered.

First thing was first, though. There was no need to dwell on a past, especially when what she _did_ recall was… unpleasant. Not when there was something else to distract herself with. Farron's moodiness and anger, for one.

Moving over to Snow, Fang mused, "No offense, but what the hell is up with her, anyway? She's been antsy as all hell since we got to Gran Pulse."

Snow shrugged, sinking down in a grateful heap next to Hope and Sazh. He jammed his bandana back on his head, but his blue eyes remained thoughtful.

"It's hard to know what's going on in her head, sometimes. She doesn't really come out and say what she's feeling." He stripped his combat gloves off, working the joints of his knuckles with a grimace. "Unless it's _you're not good enough for my sister_. She was pretty expressive about _that_ ," he added, his voice holding a wry note.

"Still, you can tell that somethin' is eating her. She hasn't run off like this, not since that whole ordeal when we crashed on the Vile Peaks," Sazh added, breaking up a few leftover crackers from his pack for his chocobo chick. The tiny bird chirped in Sazh's ear, and he smiled.

Vanille nodded at Fang, her curly pigtails bouncing with the motion. "She was upset over Serah and being chosen as l'Cie. She was convinced that a suicide mission was all she was good for, and when we didn't agree, she left. She… she was reaching out to us, and nobody but Hope reached back." She frowned then, clasping her hands together and looking down.

Hope snorted softly to himself. "As much good as that did, what with Operation Nora being a total bust."

"And that's a bad thing, why?" Snow teased, elbowing the boy in the ribs in a show of good-natured teasing.

"So something's bothering her. Wonder what it is?" Fang mused, tapping her bladed polearm up and down on her shoulder in thought.

Interesting. She'd been under the impression that Lightning had been over the whole angst shtick, back when they'd talked in Palompolum. Well, Lightning had brightened her outlook on life considerably since then, anyway. She'd even deigned to forgive Snow, for whatever crimes the poor guy had supposedly committed. Fang wasn't sure she was permitted to take the credit for that one, though.

Still. All through the Ark and ever since they'd gotten to Gran Pulse, Lightning had been getting more and more stressed about something. And when Lightning got stressed, they _all_ suffered her backhanded compliments and intolerance for any who dared fall behind on her insane exploration. It had been getting worse as the days had worn on, but at least she wasn't just imagining the change in Lightning's attitude.

And Fang had thought _she_ was antsy about the Focus and time-wasting.

"Well, when she gets back from her 'patrol', feel free to ask her. Me? I'm a wiser man than that, and those brass knuckles _hurt._ " Snow settled back, propped up against the Vallis Media's rocky walls.

Sazh nodded in agreement, Hope merely looked thoughtful, and Vanille was trying her best not to look _too_ interested in the outcome of that question.

Crossing her arms against her chest and leaning against the rock wall, Fang drawled,

"Somehow, I don't think she's going to blurt all her problems out to me. Not while you pack of idiots are eavesdropping for gossip."

Fang grinned as Vanille pouted at her. Spoiling Vanille's fun had been an essential part of her day for _years_ now. As if a few hundred years would change that!

Still, even if it was a joke, Fang's words held a note of truth. Lightning would clam up around the rest of the party if directly confronted, so that really only left her one option. Fang sighed, looking out into the falling darkness. She could hear the howls of the cie'th from here, the rumble as the ground shook under the steps of the adamantortoise.

_Bloody-minded woman._

"As well trained as our drill sergeant is, it's night time on Gran Pulse. She'd have to be Etro herself not to run-head first into a King Behemoth and not get mauled for her trouble." Fang slid her bladed pole-arm back into the straps on her back, pretending to look thoughtful. She'd already decided. "I'm gonna go fetch her, and hopefully get her to stop freaking out."

Hope rose to his feet, already reaching for his weapon and supplies. "She shouldn't be far," he said quickly. "I mean, she's fast, but not that-"

"Hm, I appreciate the gesture, but the less people around, the better, and I reckon I'm going to have to move fast," Fang told him, carefully keeping her tone light and kind. The kid was as volatile as anything these days, not that she could really blame him.

"But I can keep up, and Light trusts me. We're partners," Hope said, looking a little crestfallen at the firm refusal.

Fang shrugged, before shouldering her own pack and supplies. "And that's why I doubt she'll open up if you're around. I've gotten her talking before. Don't you worry 'bout that."

###

Lightning cursed under her breath as she jerked her blazefire saber from the still-twitching body of the gorgonopsid, scowling as she touched her painful shoulder. A quick, cooling cure spell eased most of the rawness away, but there was still a dull, vestigial ache remaining. A second cure spell sealed up the scratches on her cheek, souvenirs from her most recent scuffle with Pulse's wildlife.

For a walk that was meant to inspire her to be reflective and solve her problems, she sure hadn't thought much on them. Lightning exhaled sharply, folding the blazefire saber up and then sheathing it at her side. Night had fallen fully now, and the world's remaining cie'th were beginning to wander the planes. Maybe it hadn't been one of her most ingenious ideas to come out here, alone, but… The tension back at camp had been getting to her, and seeing Fang and Vanille, _like that-_

 _I'm being ridiculous,_ Lightning thought. _What exactly bothers me so damn much about this? Grow the hell up and act like the soldier you are._

Lightning continued on down the grassy slope, moving quickly but soundlessly past a group of snoring King Behemoths. Once at a safe distance, she slowed to a stroll, her hand on her weapon's handle, but a little more relaxed.

She craned her neck up, feeling the gentle wind stir her hair. The night was balmy, the dark sky clear, with thousands of stars winking down at her from above. It was calming, in a way. The eternal light from Cocoon's cities had never allowed the stars to be so crystal clear, not like they were now. The full moon's light was bright enough that she could make out her surroundings with ease.

Continuing on at a faster pace again and keeping close to the rocky cliffs that edged the Archylte Steppe, she began to consider her… problem.

Lightning supposed that it had all started in Palompolum. There had been questions of self-worth, anger, the meaning of her existence hanging in the balance – it was hardly surprising when she'd been able to relate to the mysterious Pulsian woman. She'd been desperate to relate to _somebody,_ she thought.

But what Fang had done, was no small feat. Lightning had made a reputation for herself as cold and judgemental, even among her comrades in the Guardian Corps. She touched the blazefire saber, sheathed at her side. Such unwavering focus had been what had made Lightning so skilled with the weapon, and it had gotten her a high rank very quickly, but she couldn't say she was a popular soldier.

At first, the other members had tried to get Lightning to open up, to participate in the happy hours and endless conversations about their social lives. Like everyone else, they'd given up in the end, unable to understand her seriousness, nor her devotion to Serah. Lightning had been content with that – all she needed was to be strong for Serah. She didn't need their false camaraderie.

_But then this whole mess with the Pulse fal'Cie, Serah and the Focus happened. My whole reason for living was taken away in the space of days._

Lightning edged by a small group of goblins, her grip tightening on her weapon's handle as some of them nearly detected her presence.

With nothing to live for, in her despair she'd nearly dragged Hope down with her. Even in spite of realizing this, she'd felt nothing. There'd been just anger and grief. And then, suddenly, there was Fang.

Along with Snow, she'd given Lightning reason to keep hoping, to keep living on. Fang was someone who understood Lightning's motivation and her mindset. After all, everything Fang did was for Vanille, even back then. That they'd worked together so well on the battlefield had only increased Lightning's respect for the woman. Her teasing, unrelenting comments had eventually worn down Lightning's barriers, and until lately, Lightning had almost been prepared to call her 'friend'.

_And if she's such a 'good friend', why am I such a mess?_

Ever since they'd rescued Sazh and Vanille from the _Palamecia,_ though, all of that had changed. There were no teasing comments, no laid back conversations – she'd even deigned to be in a completely different party when they felt it was necessary to split up.

The more rational part of Lightning understood – Fang just wanted to protect Vanille herself. But the less rational part of her, the part that had decided to mess with her carefully-sorted emotions, noted that Fang had practically ignored her from that point onwards.

_Was the camaraderie a lie? Or was I just a lowly replacement, to be used mercilessly until she could get Vanille back? Was there really no friendship between us at all? And when she acts like that with Vanille, like… like… lovers, it makes me angry, makes me feel used -_

Lightning froze, her breath coming hard, her eyes widening as it hit her.

It wasn't envy of their sisterly relationship, it wasn't even stress of their Focus getting to her. It was a childish, fully-blown jealousy that Vanille had the attentions of someone that Lightning cared for. Clenching her teeth, she slammed her fist into the rocky wall of the Archylte Steppe, staring at it, nearly too afraid to ask the next question of herself.

_Then why do I care so much?_

The yawning pit of anxiety in her stomach opened up, threatening to devour her. She didn't want to know the answer, not really, Lightning realized. She didn't want to know why the relationship between Fang and Vanille bothered her, she didn't want to remember the dreams that woke her up at night and threatened to destroy the whole persona she'd built for herself all these years. She didn't _want_ to let herself imagine the feel of –

_This is not who I am! I cannot be feeling these things. I cannot be this person._

Lightning's iron control over her emotions was rapidly disintegrating, the rules of her training fleeing her mind even as she scrabbled after them. She had to restore balance, she had to-

The frightening consequences of the question were so damning, that Lightning failed to detect the rumble of the King Behemoth as it noticed her presence.

###

Fang jogged along the sheltering cliffs of the Archylte Steppe, following the sporadic trail of carnage Lightning had left in her wake.

 _Well, at least we know she's definitely in a bad mood,_ Fang thought wryly as she passed the corpses of a few goblins. _If she's exhausted herself on the small fry, maybe she'll be less inclined to sock me one and call it a night._

Though, she _did_ wish Lightning had chosen to go stalking off while the sun was still in the sky. Fang rolled her eyes at that thought – she supposed Lightning had just planned to be all inconsiderate like that.

Picking up the pace, Fang darted past a group of goblins, wondering just how far Lightning had decided to go on her 'patrol of the camp's perimeter'.

Sure, she'd known it was a bullshit excuse when Lightning had left, but seriously, this woman was far-ranging like a bloody scout. Didn't she have any notion of a decent distance? Fang cursed Lightning's name again, almost wishing the other woman _did_ bite off more than she could chew, going walkabouts like that. Self-preservation was clearly pretty low on Lightning's list.

Fang paused for a moment, listening. She could hear the breeze rustling the Archylte Steppe's grassy slopes, the movements of the adamantortoise in the distance. If she strained, the howls of the cie'th echoed faintly through the valley, the poor bastards that they were.

There was a roar, coming from up ahead. Fang cocked her head thoughtfully, and listened again. It sounded like a King Behemoth was having trouble with some prey – it was the clang of a metal, again and again, against the behemoth's tough hide, that finally tipped her off.

"Oh, _bloody hell,_ Light!" Fang swore, snatching her bladed pole off her back as she charged in the general direction of the battle, and clenching her teeth. "You actually pissed off a _King Behemoth_?"

A short run later, and Lightning and the King Behemoth came into view. Both looked battered and weary. Lightning's right arm was tucked uselessly to the side of her body, the blazefire saber clenched in her left hand. She was circling the behemoth warily, panting.

Lightning staggered backwards as it lashed out with its front legs, the blow leaving gouges in the ground where she'd been, not moments ago. With a bitten-off oath, Fang dropped her pack and ran past her, raising an arm to stop Lightning from re-engaging the behemoth.

"I can't believe you!" Fang roared back at her, sinking into a battle stance. "You picked a fight with a King Behemoth, alone?"

Lightning met her eyes, and Fang was nearly taken aback by the loathing and anger in her eyes.

"It picked the fight with me first," Lightning growled. What the hell was she so ticked off about, anyway?

"And it didn't cross your mind to run the hell away? Are you bloody suicidal?" Fang demanded, turning her back on Lightning again as she sized the King Behemoth up.

It must have taken out Lightning's shoulder early on, she noted, but even so, Lightning had done some reasonable damage to the beast. Were this entire situation not so stupidly foolhardy, she might have been impressed. Lightning certainly was a force to be reckoned with.

_Huh, I think I know how to deal with this-here beast._

Fang didn't wait to hear Lightning's impish retort, and she too a deep breath. She pelted towards the beast, sweeping in low with her bladed staff for a feint and bringing the following end slashing up for the King Behemoth's jugular. The behemoth bellowed as the blade struck it under the chin, lumbering backwards. Hardly a square hit, but it'd be one with a warning – she'd damn well get it properly next time.

Fang adjusted her stance, spear held loosely in her right hand. She let a smirk cross her face as she sidestepped the behemoth's next lunge for her, whipping her weapon out and slicing open its side with a clean and easy slash. Behind her, Fang heard Lightning scramble away from the behemoth's charge, and send a few rapid spells to deal a little extra damage.

 _That'll do it,_ Fang noted with a tight grin, as the Behemoth began to slowly back away. _Better to let this end in a draw, 'cause without a good synergist to back us up, it'd be an uphill battle._

Not relaxing until the beast had lumbered out of sight, Fang finally let out a weary sigh. She turned to Lightning with a smirk – and only just ducked the wildly-flung punch in time.

"What the damned hell are you-" Fang started to demand, deflecting the next blow with a scowl. So, looks like Snow had been right. The bloody woman had one hell of a left hook!

"Why did you come after me?" Lightning demanded, clearly forcing herself to lower her fist and stop, you know, _attacking her ally._ Resentment, anger and guilt simmered in her blue eyes, her face locked in a grimace and tension rolling off her in waves.

Cursing tightly, Lightning stowed her blazefire saber in its holster. She seemed to be heavily favoring her right shoulder still. Fang wondered briefly what she'd done to it, if a cure wasn't doing the trick.

"You know, normal people would think a 'thank you' might be in order, since I just saved your reckless behind," Fang told her, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning against the rocky cliff. Lightning turned away from her abruptly, and hovered her left hand over her shoulder as she invoked a weak cure spell.

"I didn't ask you to follow me," Lightning said harshly as the cure completed, and began to walk away. She was practically bristling with anger. "You are the _last_ person I wanted to see."

Fang watched her go, tempted to give this insane plan up. Lightning clearly wasn't thinking right – attacking an ally was hardly the behaviour Fang expected from a trained soldier, even if she _was_ from Cocoon. But Fang had told the rest of the group she'd work out what was up with Lightning, and hopefully get her to ease up on her insane demands of them.

Fang supposed she was just stupidly stubborn like that. So instead of letting Lightning go, as her usual keen sense of self-preservation would have dictated, Fang jogged after the angry woman. She ignored the dark glower on Lightning's face and fell into step beside her.

"Well, that's bully for you, but you aren't getting rid of me that easily, girl," Fang told her with a grin, one that would have normally put even Lightning at ease, if the other woman hadn't been glaring so determinedly into the distance. Fang knew better than to reach out for Lightning physically, so she walked along beside her, waiting.

It didn't take long for Lightning to start to crack under Fang's scrutiny.

"Go back to base camp," Lightning said, scowling. Her voice was so tight, so harshly devoid of emotion that Fang had to raise an eyebrow. Oh yeah, something was definitely up with her. Lightning had never outright rejected Fang's company, for all her usual sternness.

"And why would I do a stupid thing like that?" Fang asked, with a soft laugh. Lightning didn't _seriously_ think she was going to buck up and take orders, just like that? After Lightning had clearly shown she wasn't fit to be left alone like this? _Pfft._ Delusional Cocoon folk. That was another thing that hadn't changed in five hundred years.

"I don't need your help."

Lightning was still refusing to look at her. Fang was really getting nowhere, just trying to sneak the information out from under Lightning's nose. Lightning was a smart woman, after all, and she'd probably appreciate a direct approach the most. Though first, Fang had to get Lightning to _look_ at her, preferably without that frightening anger.

And Fang had thought it would be damn-near impossible to emulate Bahamut's "come here so I can rip your guts out" look _that_ well, too. The more you know.

"Clearly, the King Behemoths reckon you _do_ need a little help, or they wouldn't be picking you off like you were the weakest fiend in the swarm," Fang mused, and her lips quirked in half a smile, as Lightning's relentless walk faltered for a moment. Oh, that woman had some pride all right.

"Besides, I've been meaning to have a talk with you-"

Lightning whirled with a savage curse, her left arm drawn back to wallop Fang and _mean_ it this time.

Fang had expected no less, and in one, smooth motion, she brought her forearm up to solidly block the blow and slammed an open-palm strike into Lightning's right shoulder. Lightning cried out as shockwaves went through the injured joint, falling to her knees and clutching at it, hunched over and panting.

_Damn,_ _Light. You really don't want to talk about it, do you? What's got you so worked up?_

Dusting her hands off, Fang sighed and walked over to where Lightning was crouched. She knelt in front of the other woman, frowning at the weakness of the cure spell. Maybe it'd do a bit more good if Lightning was actually focused enough to complete the spell properly – clearly, her attention was all over the place, bad enough that it was affecting the strength of her magic, too.

"Etro's hands, you're not thinking straight," Fang muttered. Finally, Lightning looked her in the eyes – Fang was nearly taken aback by the intensity and _honesty_ of the emotions in them. Shame and guilt, burningly intense – Lightning quickly looked away.

"Okay…" Fang drew the word out slowly, her thoughts racing. Maybe she knew the problem. Maybe. And a big part of her hoped that she was right, even if it seemed to be causing Lightning agony. "I don't think it'd be such a wise idea to take you back to camp right now, not with you… like you are. You might scar Hope for life."

Lightning shook her head, removing her hand from her shoulder as the cure spell ended. "I'm fine."

"I think I'll be the judge of that, Light," Fang said, with a snort. "Listen, when I was tracking you after you decided to go on walkabouts, I saw a small fissure that looks like it'll lead to a cave. We'll rest up, talk a bit about whatever the hell is going on in that brain of yours, then we'll see about getting back to the others. That's the way it's going to go down, so help me Etro."

Fang helped Lightning to her feet with a grunt – the other woman was deceptively heavy for her lithe build. Might be all that raw strength and steely muscles, Fang mused. Not a bad grip on her, either, and the way she swung a blazefire saber was enough to make a woman drool.

Not that it really mattered, when Lightning was now refusing to have a bar of her company, even outright attacking her over it. Fang had to say, though, it was certainly the most violent rejection of her friendship she'd come across. Even counting the numerous exes, the Pulsian generals, commanding officers that hated her loose-cannon ways…

 _Why are the attractive ones always the ones who want to kill me?_ Fang lamented, making sure Lightning was following along behind her as they began the short trek towards the cave.


	2. Archylte Steppe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things only get more awkward for Lightning as Fang attempts to weasel a confession from her. Lightning is a tough nut to crack, and even tougher when she’s been cornered.

Lightning definitely should not have lashed out as violently as she had. She knew that. She'd just been so preoccupied with the distraction that the fight with the King Behemoth had given her, so engrossed in the glorious struggle of the fight in spite of her arm, that suddenly, seeing _her_ there –

Knowing that the source of everything that was wrong was just standing there, smirking at Lightning… It had been almost as if Fang had known exactly what she'd done to Lightning, the turmoil she'd caused and the changes she'd wrought. It had been too much to handle. As frayed as Lightning's emotional equilibrium had been, she had lashed out.

Of course, Fang was never one to take abuse like that lying down, so Lightning wasn't sure why she'd been so surprised when the woman had retaliated and struck out at her sore shoulder.

_I admit I would have done the same, were our places reversed. A simple, clean elimination of a threat._

What was disconcerting was Fang's sudden attention towards her. After days of living with only the most minimal regard, suddenly Lightning was meant to believe that they were friends again? It was ridiculous, it was insane. What was far, far worse was Lightning's own willingness to allow it to happen. Just to snatch a few moments of Fang's positive regard, to pretend that things were different –

Lightning ruthlessly hammered down the thought.

Now, Fang wanted to _talk_. Maybe she hadn't been nearly as subtle as she ought to have been, Lightning realized. Had it been obvious to everyone but herself? Had they all been laughing at her struggles, knowing exactly what was happening? The l'Cie brand on her chest seemed to tighten.

 _Relax, soldier._ The tightening sensation receded a little, but the memory remained in her thoughts, like a behemoth in her mind. How long did she have? She couldn't let the cie'th take her, not yet. Not when they still had so long to go, not when she still tried to hope for a way to save Serah from an eternity as a crystal. Not when they were still trying to find a way to defy what seemed to be their fate.

It was far too easy to fall into the trap of despair and hate, to be devoured by the mark.

A few paces ahead of her, Fang slowed her walk, and dug the folded end of her spear into the grassy earth.

"Ah, here it is," Fang announced, jerking her head in the direction of a shadowy niche in the Steppe's rocky wall. Lightning's eyes strained to resolve the outline of the cave. It was small, barely wide enough to squeeze through without getting a few scrapes, but it was shelter nonetheless.

Lightning was surprised that Fang had even managed to see the cave in the growing darkness. Even as a l'Cie, even if she hadn't been so caught up in her whirlwind of emotions, Lightning doubted she would have spotted it.

Fang was moving ahead again, and Lightning's eyes followed her as she squeezed between the rocks of the fissure. Even within the shadows, the moonlight still caught on the silken fabric of Fang's sari. Her eyes strayed down, noting how the moonlight on the sari accentuated the shapeliness of Fang's-

Lightning nearly choked on the thought, forcing herself to stop imagining. She was not like that, she reassured herself fiercely as she looked up at the stars again. She was not someone so easily swayed by that kind of thing, and she wasn't –

"Hey! Lightning! You gonna stare at the sky all night like a slack-jawed lobo, or are you gonna haul your arse in here?" Fang's voice sounded a little echoed, and definitely a little frustrated – the world hardly stopped for soliloquies.

Making a small sound of irritation, Lightning approached the fault in the cliff-wall and placed a hand against the rough granite of the opening. She could hear Fang shuffling about in her pack in the darkness beyond.

 _ **Stop**_ _thinking. Just stop,_ Lightning growled silently to herself, as she pushed herself through the fissure. A few scrapes later, and she was standing within the oppressive blackness, listening to the sound of Fang digging around for something in her pack.

Could this have felt any more awkward? Lightning reached for her l'Cie magic. She summoned a tiny fire spell that condensed and rested above the palm of her hand, and she quickly scanned her surroundings.

The spell didn't give off a lot of light, but it was enough to note that the cave was far bigger than the entrance implied. Not a bad find.

"Ah, nice thinking. Didn't cross my mind. Guess that's why you're the go-to ravager and I'm not," Fang told her, shooting her a distracted look as she kept rifling through her belongings. Lightning looked away determinedly, wishing her throat hadn't constricted at the sight of the small smile. More, Lightning wished she'd never left on this walk – had she stayed back at base-camp, maybe she wouldn't have realized how far - and hard - she'd fallen.

 _This_ was the last thing she needed to deal with.

"Here we go," Fang suddenly declared, wrestling something from the abused-looking backpack. "A torch, so you don't have to keep acting like the battery. You've already got enough zap in you."

"Your jokes could do with some work," Lightning said, rolling her eyes as she touched the fire spell to the battered old torch.

If Lightning was able to put on a convincing front, then perhaps Fang would drop this painful ordeal. The l'Cie brand tightened slightly. This whole thing was so confusing, so sudden… She just wanted Fang to leave her alone so she could pretend that none of it had ever happened.

Fang shrugged, one of those disarming smiles on her face. "Everything I come up with is a hoot. Didn't get that memo, I see."

" _At_ you, Fang, not _with_ you. There's a slight distinction." Lightning smiled slightly in return, feeling herself relaxing her guard a little – then she pulled herself up short. Just like that, it had been so easy to fall into the same old trap again. Was she so desperate for Fang's attention that's she'd lap up the dregs, pretending that it was always like this?

This pathetic, new self disgusted her. She wasn't supposed to need the regard of others. She was supposed to have dedicated her life to Serah.

Lightning turned away from Fang, leaning against the entrance to the cave and looking into the plains beyond. The gentle slopes of the Archylte Steppe were washed in silver moonlight, and she could make out the dark outlines of monsters moving in the darkness. Maybe they were a nocturnal variety of cie'th, or maybe they were just a mob of goblins causing trouble. Lightning leaned her head against the cool rock.

What would Serah think of her 'strong' older sister, if she saw Lightning now? It had been Lightning's job to protect and care for her sister. Not only had she failed in that, she was barely able to care for herself. Lightning knew she really had no grounds to judge Snow, when she looked back at all her own failures and weaknesses.

Lightning heard Fang snort in an undignified way, coming from somewhere behind her.

"Look, I'm going to light a fire just outside the cave to get some food warmed up, if that's all right with the Drill Sergeant. I'm starving, and you running off like a tool didn't leave me much time to eat anything. Ration bars are getting _real_ stale, though, but I've got an idea."

Resisting the urge to point out that she never _asked_ Fang to follow after her, Lightning nodded. When she thought about it, she was a little hungry herself. A soft growl from her stomach agreed with the notion. She hadn't eaten since earlier that day, and only because Snow and Sazh had refused to move a step further until they'd had a chance to eat and rest. She'd been distracted and eager to press on, so her ration bars had gone unfinished.

Shaking her head slightly, she sighed. Empty regrets, now.

Fang pushed past her with the burning torch and out into the open again, waving for Lightning to follow after her. She swept the torch in a wide arc, seeming to look for something in the grass. Lightning frowned, placing a hand on her hip as she watched Fang scour the ground.

"What are you looking for?" Lightning finally asked, uncomfortable with the silence.

Fang didn't look up from her search, although she laughed shortly. "Wood. So we can burn it. So we can eat. You know, for a military rising-star, you aren't all that smart."

"'Rising-star'? And who told you that?" She spotted a stout-looking branch so old the wood had gone silver, and took it into her good arm, then looked around for more.

"Might have been something Snow said yesterday. Might not have," Fang told Lightning with a knowing smirk, as she added another few branches to her armload. "I'd rather not have my little birdy beheaded and served on skewers just yet."

_Rising-star of the Guardian Corps._

The memory of what she had been, before everything had gone to hell, sat on her uneasily. She'd been one of the best, only held down by her young age and her own coldness. In the days before the Purge, Lieutenant Amodar had even told her that she was eligible for promotion. To the Cavalry, to PSICOM, to rise a few ranks within the Guardian Corps? She didn't know. She'd never know, not after the fal'Cie took Serah from her. Not now that she was a l'Cie.

The sudden, gentle tap on her pauldron made her jump, and she fought not to recoil back from Fang's touch. The woman quirked an eyebrow at her, her arms full of twigs and branches, the torch balanced haphazardly in the crook of her elbow.

"Petulant isn't your colour," Fang said, motioning for Lightning to grab the torch from her before it dislodged from its resting place and burned her. "I'll set these up, and since you tend have the better magic, you cast the fire spell when I'm all finished. That suit you?"

 _Looks like I have no choice in the matter anyway,_ Lightning noted as Fang bent and began to arrange the sticks and branches into the semblance of a pile.

She wondered where Fang had learned all her survival and hunting skills. The ruins they'd found and explored on Pulse didn't seem in indicate a low level of technology – so where would Fang have learned to use a spear?

She watched Fang curse and begin to restack the wood again in a different spot on the ground, watched the mix of shadows and crimson light from the torch dance across her tanned skin.

In truth, Fang fascinated her. She was brash, she was crude, she was tough in a way that Lightning had never seen, not in Cocoon's women. She was strong but she was quick to smile or frown, and she was protective of Vanille almost to a fault. She laughed at herself, but she was deadly serious about her goals.

It was confusing and wonderful, but at the same time it was awful. Lightning's jaw tightened reflexively. How Fang could do this to her, without seeming to notice at all?

It was worse that Fang could do it without _Lightning_ noticing, that Fang could turn her world and who she was upside down, with no hope of ever going back to the way things were.

Snapping to awareness as Fang rose and stretched, Lightning quickly looked away from her, reaching for her magic and casting the low-powered fire spell on the wood. She'd been staring, silently appraising the way Fang moved, the way her wild, dark hair fell over her shoulder. She'd have to be more cautious, or it would be obvious, and then…

…then what? Once again, she didn't know. Lightning watched the fire take hold of the dry wood they'd collected, devouring it with a vengeance.

Fang flopped to the ground in front of the flames, stretching and yawning loudly. Lightning looked at her. Was she meant to follow Fang's example? Finally, she sighed, walking a few feet away to the cool, rocky wall. She sat, her back to the wall and staying a reassuring distance from Fang.

It might just have been her imagination, but she did feel a release in tension the further away she was.

"Did she like the stars?" Fang suddenly asked, leaning back to meet Lightning's eyes directly. The play of firelight and shadows on her face made the pale green of her eyes even more striking – Lightning had to swallow a few times to get her dry mouth to work again.

"Who?" Lightning asked. She felt pinned by Fang's gaze, suffocated, her muscles tensing. It was an effort to break the contact, to look away, but she had to.

Fang chuckled at her confusion. "Serah. Who _else_?"

Lightning felt a small surge of relief. Serah was much easier to think about.

"Yeah." Lightning smiled a little. The memories warmed her, distracted her from the present. "She liked fireworks, too. I think it was all the lights against the darkness, and the colours. She always loved the Firework Festival, the one Bodhum holds annually. Always begging me to take her to them that year…"

Fang smirked at her. "I think I get what you mean. Those fireworks _were_ pretty impressive. For Cocoon fare, anyhow."

Lightning stifled a smile at the obligatory jab at Cocoon. Fang would never stand a slur on _Gran_ Pulse, but she could and _would_ go on for days about 'the nest of vipers in the sky'. Double standards and hypocrisy meant little to the Pulsian woman, it seemed.

The feeling of remembered happiness didn't last, though. A bitter memory rose up, spoiling the warmth, turning her stomach.

"The past couple of years, though, I'd been too busy to take her," Lightning said, fixing her gaze on the fire. "I was always working, trying to get stronger, to protect her. Never even noticed that she didn't bother asking me to see the fireworks with her this year."

Silence fell between them, only the sound of the crackling fire, the wind and the movements of magic-wary creatures in the night. She supposed that was a benefit of using magic to light the fire. The lesser beasts were not willing to ambush you, not if they believed you to be real threat.

"…it wasn't your fault, you know," Fang said, finally. The silence stretched on, and she took one of the longer twigs from the pile of wood, poking at the embers with it. "Sisters grow apart, and Serah might have wanted to see them with Snow instead. And judging by the timeframe, I'd say she had more than a few things on her mind."

The l'Cie brand on her chest constricted at that, as Lightning recalled how coldly she'd dismissed Serah the day after the fireworks.

"You'd never have done that to Vanille," she forced out, trying to keep her voice even, trying to stop her anguish from revealing itself. "You'd never have forgotten your family traditions, or-"

_Or told her you'd hunt her down if she really was a Pulse l'Cie. How could I have been so merciless…?_

"I _did_ forget her birthday once, though. Never did that one again, for fear of another temper tantrum that could wipe out all life on Gran Pulse." Fang grinned as Lightning raised an eyebrow. "But Vanille is the single-most important person in my life. She's really all I got left, of Oerba, of our old Focus… and of Gran Pulse, it would seem."

Then, there was that uncomfortable silence again as Lightning thought over what Fang had told her.

That understanding had been why it had been so easy to relate to Fang, at least at first. Fang understood what it was like to live your life for the sake of another person.

Lightning reached out and hugged one of her knees, wincing as the motion pulled the sore muscles in her shoulder. It wasn't right that she was jealous of Vanille. Would she have taken any outsiders seriously, if they told her that they were jealous of the attention she gave Serah? Of course not.

She looked into the fire, and then let them drift to Fang again. She couldn't help it, not now that she knew the truth. The other woman was wildly beautiful, all the smooth muscle, her slightly sun-bleached hair, the tattoo scrawled on her arm –

Lightning rested her head back against the cooling rock wall and let out a long, shaky breath. She was in far too deep. Silence dominated, and she was unable to bring herself to break it.

Fang seemed contemplative as she stared into the fire, smiling a little at something remembered. Lightning felt herself relax – it seemed like Fang's scrutiny of her had been forgotten for now. She'd almost convinced herself of that when Fang looked back at her again.

"So." Fang drew the word out, and threw it down like a challenge as she shifted around to face Lightning fully. She sat cross-legged, blue sari pooling in her lap, propping herself up with her palm under her chin. "Lightning. What's _really_ been bothering you, then?"

Lightning felt herself go cold. The challenging look in her eyes, the slightest smirk on her lips – did Fang know already?

"There's nothing wrong," Lightning forced out, but she'd hesitated too long. Fang's sceptical look bragged that the lie hadn't fooled _her_ , either. That was a pity.

Fang snorted, clearly displaying that scepticism for all of Pulse to hear. "Yeah. Sure. And so you've been acting like you've a rod up your arse for no reason at all, right? Can't say I believe your little story, so how about you be square with me?"

Lightning froze, meeting Fang's eyes squarely. The blatant smugness, that smirk of superiority – anger burned through Lightning. Fang thought she knew what was going on? Fang had no _idea_ of what she was going through! She threw caution into the wind.

"Excuse me?" Lightning snapped. She reached out and touched the cold hilt of her blazefire saber, to make her demand seem all the more threatening. If her right shoulder wasn't killing her, arm she'd have given Fang a thrashing she'd never forget. It'd certainly wipe that insufferable smugness off her face.

Fang spread her hands, still looking self-satisfied and certainly not seeming to take Lightning's implied threat seriously. Fang leaned forward.

"I think you're scared," she told Lightning with an air of finality, as if judgement had just been passed on Lightning's soul. How reassuring. "That's why you ran off tonight. You can't cut down, or run away from all your problems, Light. I like to think that I learned that long ago."

Silence reigned between them, the only sounds coming from the crackling of the fire and the pounding of the blood in Lightning's ears. She met Fang's eyes squarely, a simple act of defiance. Did Fang know, or didn't she? It wasn't clear.

The intensity in Fang's eyes was disarming though, forcing the harsh breath in Lightning's throat to catch. She released the hilt of her blazefire saber reluctantly, and looked away to break Fang's hold on her mind. Fang was right, though. She couldn't always run and fight, like she'd wanted to at the Vile Peaks. She'd thought she'd learned that with Hope.

Maybe Lightning still had a few issues to work out.

With that, Fang laughed shortly, climbing to her feet and using her polearm to lever herself up. Lightning looked up questioningly – hadn't it been Fang's intention to stay the night here? Surely the interrogation couldn't be over yet. She'd expected Fang to be more tenacious than that.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lightning asked, frowning slightly.

"Concerned? For me? How sweet." Lightning's scowl was met with a shrug, as Fang sheathed her spear in the straps on her back. "I'll be back in a bit. Gonna go get something other than ration bars to eat. Try not to skip out on me while I'm gone, because I'd hate having to hurt your shoulder again by dragging your sorry arse back."

###

_Of course she'd have to be the most difficult nut to crack, ever. She's a stuffy, Cocoon-bred, uptight soldier, what the bloody hell were you expecting?_ Fang huffed silently as she made her way along the eastern walls of the Steppe, her eyes trying to pierce the darkness and pick out the gorgonopsid Lightning had so _graciously_ felled in her temper-tantrum. As she neared the shadowed forms, she cursed and swung her polearm down.

" _Bullshit_ there's 'nothing wrong'. _Pfft_. Even I was better at lying when I made off with old Jorgen's beer stash, and he thrashed me without a second glance," Fang ranted to the fallen gorgonopsid, as if they'd start talking back to her and agreeing that Lightning was a royal pain in the rear. Pity, that. She could have used the extra moral support, because Fang was _this_ close to just beating the answers out of Lightning and being done with the whole thing.

But… perhaps Fang needed to handle this situation carefully, especially if her instincts were right on the gil.

 _Kinda like taming a chocobo. Go nice and easy, and lead it by the nose until you've got it right where you want 'em._ Fang sniggered at the comparison. She doubted Lightning would have been amused at the comparison with a giant, yellow roadrunner, though. Even if her hairstyle was ever-so-slightly reminiscent of them.

Fang knew she couldn't afford to fuck this up. An annoying part of her was really starting to hope that Lightning _was_ interested. She'd thought that maybe Lightning had been, after Palumpolum, but during the Ark, Lightning had made her lack of interest pretty clear.

Kneeling by the nearest gorgonopsid, Fang roughly grabbed a haunch and deftly severed the tendons with her polearm's meticulously-sharpened blade.

Four hundred years, and while the fauna had certainly gotten bigger, beasties like this one were still built the same. Fang took hold of the lower joint of the leg, and then heaved it over her shoulder, straightening as she went. As far as she could remember, these critters made a decent enough meal. The meat was not toxic like the goblins, and while a little tasteless, it was leagues above what she'd expect from another goddamn ration bar.

_Ugh. Ration bars._

Another of Cocoon's more awful creations, Fang had had it up to _here_ with that dry, bland biscuit that only tasted good with a whole skin of grog to wash it down with. Given their location… alcohol was a little hard to come by. Yet another reason to lament her current situation.

_But Lightning's got something eating at her, and I think I can guess what it is now._

Fang acknowledged that she could be called many different names. Arrogant. Crude. 'Pig-headed' and 'narcissistic', she supposed, if Vanille's teasing was to be taken seriously. Inobservant? Not one of those things. She was a hunter, after all, and she'd survived the War of Transgression, even if she couldn't recall how she'd actually done that.

That was something that she really needed to talk to Vanille about, but she shoved it to the back of her mind. There'd be time enough for that can of worms later.

When she arrived back at the makeshift camp, Fang was almost surprised to find that Lightning had actually listened to her.

Lightning was still sitting by the fire, staring moodily into the flames. Well, didn't that just ooze angst and self-pity? Fang resisted rolling her eyes at the melodrama of it all as she dumped the haunch on the ground. Lightning thought she had problems? She should try being a combatant in a war between worlds…

_The War of Transgression is_ _**not** _ _a nice thing to wish on her, even if she is being a right wuss about this. You like her, don't you? You want more, right? Then you're gonna have to deal with this issue of hers._

Lightning had looked up at the sound of Fang's arrival, and then away again. She seemed to be lost in her own thoughts for now. Perhaps it was best that Lightning worked through them on her own, before Fang attempted to corner her.

Too bad gysahl greens didn't work on humans the same way they did on chocobos. Fang could have used the edge.

With no herbs, the gorgonopsid meat was going to be fairly tasteless, and probably tough. Vanille had always been the cook, so Fang would just have to work with what she was given.

Fang went to work on it, skewering pieces on a few stray sticks and setting them over the fire to cook. Lightning didn't say a word about 'inevitable charcoal', and didn't even twitch in recognition when Fang rose to wash her hands off in a nearby stream. When Fang returned, however, Lightning seemed to have decided something.

_Well, about damn time._

Fang sat cross-legged on the ground by her, and waited for her to speak.

Lightning's voice was slightly hoarse when she finally spoke.

"Over the past few days, I've… I've been a…" She seemed to be struggling to find the right words.

"A jerkwad, a slave-driver, and a hardarse," Fang helpfully pointed out, grinning as Lightning's eyes narrowed at her flippant bluntness. "But you do usually have your heart in the right place, so I'd say that squares us. So, now that that's out of the way, what _has_ been on your mind?"

Lightning's glare faded into a weary look. "Between Serah, Snow and Hope? I've got enough worries on my mind. But, lately, I…"

"You need to learn how to relax," Fang declared suddenly, resting her chin on the palm of her hand and raising an eyebrow at the woman next to her. "Seriously. Just let go for a while, and I reckon you'll be so much the better for it."

"Tch. Haven't exactly had much of a chance to do that. My sister was taken by the fal'Cie, then there was the Purge, I became a l'Cie and ever since then I've been actively hunted by the Sanctum. Not really much time to _relax,_ " Lightning said quietly.

Fang shrugged, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. "There's always now. I don't see any PSICOM, or any 'scary Gran Pulse monsters' lurking around right now."

"I wasn't aware that relaxation was like flicking a switch," Lightning said, meeting her eyes squarely with the retort. That was better – it was a lot more 'Lightning' than wallowing in angst and guilt.

Still. Fang had to see how deep this went, and with Lightning so reluctant to talk... 

"Cheeky. I like that," Fang replied airily, keeping an eye locked onto Lightning's face for a reaction – if there _was_ any. There it was. Fang couldn't tell if it was just the crimson light of the fire, or if stoic, controlled Lightning was actually blushing.

 _This is more fun that I thought it would be._ Fang's grin widened. _Who'd have thought? She's actually interested, even if she won't admit it._

"You're not all that bad, when you aren't freaking out," Fang told Lightning lightly, dying to probe further into the matter.

"Good to know I have your approval," Lightning muttered in response, but Fang could pick up on the hesitation in her voice. It was barely perceptible – Lightning was damn good at self control. But Fang was better, and body language was one of her strong points. Lightning was severely off-balance.

That could be enough for Fang to weasel the confession out of her. Could be.

After that near-beating she got before, Fang felt she rightly deserved to know what was really going down, and if her instincts were correct.

"The more you know," Fang said with a smirk, watching Lightning's reactions carefully and her mind racing.

Okay. She had a working plan now. This would either solve everything, or end with Fang's jaw broken and her ribcage smashed in. What could she say? She loved a good challenge where the stakes where high, and Lightning was the biggest challenge of them all.

###

There was silence again, and Lightning kept her eyes fixed on the skewers of food in the fire, watching them cook. Fang seemed entirely oblivious to the state of her food, even if the stench of the burning flesh was overpowering. Worse, Fang seemed to be watching her like a hawk.

_Eden damn it all._

It was difficult not to get sucked in by Fang's charm, Lightning noted as the uncomfortable silence continued. That was the worst part in all this – that Fang could just barge her way back into Lightning's good graces and not bat an eye at the confusion she brought. Every time that Fang implied that she enjoyed Lightning's company, it set her heart racing but filled her with an icy fear all at once.

"So. Your sis, the lug and the kid are bothering you? And you're sure that's all?" Fang questioned, while crawling over to the fire to move the burning meat from the fire for a while.

"What else would there be?" Lightning tried not to watch the play of crimson light over Fang's body. After a quick examination of the food, Fang flopped back onto the ground, next to her. Lightning scowled. Did Fang have no concept of personal space?

"You seem close. With Serah." Fang was watching her again, those unnervingly green eyes making Lightning even more uncomfortable. She shifted slightly, trying not to be so obvious about creating distance between them.

"…we used to be close, I suppose. My parents died when I was fifteen, and I virtually raised Serah from that point on." Hopefully, the information would distract Fang from the fact that Lightning was edging away from her.

Fang rested her chin in her palm. "Must have been hard on her. Serah got herself another mother, but I wonder if she'd have preferred the sister."

Not long ago, Lightning had asked herself much the same thing. If she'd been a little closer, a little less preoccupied with what she _thought_ was best for Serah… Maybe Serah wouldn't have become a l'Cie. Maybe this whole mess would have been averted, crisis over.

What Lightning wouldn't give to have her time again…

"A harsh truth, but it's still true. I'm nowhere near as close with her, as you and Vanille are. I regret that." There. She said it, and hopefully Fang would take the bait and leave her alone already. Lightning would disguise her emotional confusion as simple jealousy of the sisterly bond. It was for the best.

"Do you now?" A cocky grin spread over Fang's face. "Really? Seriously? You want to be as close to Serah, as I am with Vanille?"

"Is there something wrong with that?" Lightning asked, slightly annoyed. It felt suspiciously like she was walking into one of Fang's traps. That grin didn't look promising.

"Huh." Fang tilted her head, tapping her cheek thoughtfully. Those green eyes seemed to dance with barely-concealed amusement. "Never took you for the kinky sort."

 _Kink… kinky sort._ Lightning closed her eyes, fighting not to gape at what Fang was implying, or slam her fist into that smug face and watch Fang bleed over the grass. That second option was looking awfullyattractive at that moment. Before Lightning had the chance to act, Fang went on, still smirking at her.

"I would do anything for Vanille. I don't set any boundaries on my love for her."

Lightning's mind went blank for a moment. Was Fang implying what Lightning thought she was implying?

"Are you saying you and Vanille… are…"

Lightning couldn't bring herself to say it. Of course. Fang and Vanille really were lovers. Looking back, it had been obvious. She'd been picking up on it, that was why it made her so uncomfortable and confused.

She rose to her feet swiftly, unable to bear being in Fang's company. Not yet. Not until she became used to the idea. Lightning clenched her teeth. Not until she got used to the idea that there really was no hope at all, and that she'd been stupid to even subconsciously want something else. As Lightning turned to stride off into the darkness, something gripped her wrist and tugged.

"And where do you reckon you're heading this time, Light?" Fang asked, keeping a steady grip on Lightning's arm. She was still grinning – was she glad she'd fooled Lightning like this? Lightning jerked her arm from Fang's hand sharply, scowling at her.

"Away," she said roughly, striding away. Her shoulder began to throb again – damn healing magic wasn't as strong as it needed to be. This time she got four steps before Fang grabbed her good shoulder, now so close Lightning could feel her breath and her warm body. A shiver of anger and fear raced down her spine. Lightning whirled with a snarl, swinging a vicious left hook at Fang's jaw.

Fang caught her fist just inches before it impacted, grinning at Lightning's cold fury with a calmness that was astounding.

"You're so predictable when you're mad," Fang's voice was teasing, and her grip slackened as Lightning jerked away. Breathing hard, Lightning straightened. Violent emotions shortened their time as l'Cie, so anger and panic were only going to make things worse. Lightning shook her head, trying to clear it. She had no choice. She had to get out of here.

"I need some time to be alone," Lightning told Fang shortly, turning her back on the other woman. "Do not follow me."

Lightning was prepared for Fang's grip this time. As Fang's hand tightened around her shoulder, Lightning pivoted and slammed a sharp sucker-punch against Fang's ribs, one that should have been powerful enough to knock her away. Fang grunted at the blow, but if anything she tightened her grip on Lightning's good shoulder.

"Oh, that's _it,_ Lightning." Fang's voice sounded a little tight, and then suddenly Fang's leg had hooked behind her own and she'd been thrown bodily to the ground. Lightning snarled as she realized that Fang was attempting a grappling arm-bar on her, and manoeuvred just enough to thwart the action. But Fang was too close, and she was leaning in-

"This get you hot? Is that it?" Fang whispered harshly by her ear. Lightning growled at that, and panting, she managed to reverse their positions. She had to end it quickly. Fang was a dangerous opponent, especially when provoked.

Lightning moved quickly to draw Fang down into a submission chokehold. The other woman struggled as Lightning squeezed her neck into the crook of her elbow, moving so that Fang's own weight added to the pressure. Just as quickly, though, Lightning felt the wind leave her lungs explosively.

Somehow Fang's elbow had located her solar plexus and had slammed into it – hard. Lightning bit back a breathless groan as the other woman struggled free from the chokehold. She was still off-balance just long enough for Fang to complete the armbar, forcing her to follow it down to the grassy earth.

Pressure and pain warred in her joint, and with a gasp she tapped on Fang's forearm to slacken the grip. Fang reluctantly complied, but she took her time about doing so.

"That was a dirty trick," Lightning spat at the other woman. She was still struggling to regain her breath, and she was burning with anger and humiliation.

"What can I say?" Fang panted. She smirked down at Lightning, clearly pleased with her victory. "When you're up against a tough opponent, you gotta do all you can to win. _Such_ as your little chokehold trick, if-you-catch-my-drift," she added meaningfully. "I wonder. _Whatever_ could I have said to get that violent response? Hm. Bears some thinking about, hey?"

Lightning remained silent, her teeth clenched.

Fang sighed. "Look. Light. I'm bloody tired. It's been a long day of monster hunting and fruitless exploration. I'd seriously appreciate it if you'd just chill the hell out, and then damn well say what's been getting up your nose. You might be surprised with the response you get."

Lightning let her muscles go slack. There was no sense in running any more – Fang had already guessed it. All there was left to do was to confirm her suspicions. Fang sensed the fighting spirit leave her, and eased the pressure on her shoulder altogether. She moved away, allowing Lightning to sit up again.

Her shoulder throbbed, and she pressed a hand to it to cooling healing magic. The pain dulled again.

"Looks like your focus is so bad your magic's on the fritz," Fang noted, her eyes serious for once. "Maybe it might pay to get a little something off your chest."

"Tch. You could at least be more subtle about it," Lightning said. The least Fang could do was to leave her some pride.

Fang spread her hands casually. "Hey, subtle ain't my forte. Can't help but note that it ain't yours either."

"You're annoying," Lightning said, her voice harsh. Her fist tightened as her emotions surged, a surge that was so powerful that it became difficult to force the words out. Where was her cherished control now? "I could have handled this on my own. But you just have to shove your nose in my problems. It's unwanted and uninvited."

Fang shrugged. "I'm not too keen on letting our fearless leader turn cie'th, just because she's upset over a little something. Now, stop deflecting. Out with it." 

"…every time I see you with Vanille. It…" Lightning hesitated. How exactly was she going to explain this? She barely understood it herself now. The best way was to start from the beginning. "Back when I first met you, you… understood. About Serah, and about Snow and Hope. You were different and it… it fascinated me. And when we got Vanille back, it seemed as though we were no longer as close. It bothered me. It's only today that I understood why."

Fang's eyebrow was raised, mouth twitching in a vain attempt not to smile. "So in simpler words, you got jealous of Vanille for stealing a friend away? Or because…" Fang trailed off, chuckling. "You thought you no longer had a chance with me."

"Bluntly, I suppose that's correct." It was far easier to pretend that this was a mission report to Lieutenant Amodar. Easier to distance herself from the problem, to let it be something impersonal.

"Nice to see that stick's still shoved up your arse. Like I said before, for a 'rising star of the military', you don't use your brain that much." Fang's voice sounded amused as she wrapped her arms around her knee.

Lightning frowned at her dismissive tone and blatant baiting. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Vanille's my best friend, my sister and my soul mate. I love her unreservedly, and I would burn the entire world for her sake. _In_ love with her? Hm, that there raises a few issues. For starters, it's kind of hard not to look at her and see the kid who got walloped along with me when we raided Oerba's grog stash, back when I turned fifteen." Fang grinned, deliberately catching Lightning's eye. "For second… She's not really my type."

Lightning felt herself shiver, both from Fang's words and Fang's actions. "So you're not with Vanille."

It felt a little strange to say that, aloud.

"But, that raises a fair question," Fang said, placing a gentle hand on Lightning's shoulder to get her attention again. The firelight seemed to make her skin glow a reddish gold, causing Lightning's breath to catch in her throat. "If I'm interested, what happens next, Lightning? Where should we go from here?"

As Lightning forced herself to look away from Fang, she had to admit that it _was_ a good question. They were miles from base camp, in the middle of hostile, hell-like Pulse – _Gran_ Pulse, she reluctantly corrected herself – now that it was out in the open, what exactly were they going to do about it? The answer was clear in her mind.

"We go back to camp, and nothing ever happened."

Fang's grin slid crookedly from her face as she demanded, "You for serious?"

"Do I look like I'm joking?" Lightning asked, feigning a disinterested shrug. Seeing Fang's incredulous expression was sweet vengeance for all those playful barbs and that constant baiting that night. 

Fang huffed as she leaned back. "Well, _that's_ a boring outcome. After getting slogged with that Etro-painful punch to my ribs? I was hoping for better compensation than that _._ " Suddenly, she grinned wickedly. _"_ But I stand by what I said before. You need to relax _._ "

"Tch." No prizes for guessing what Fang meant by getting her to 'relax', Lightning thought with a hint of irritation.

Fang laughed when she saw Lightning's annoyed look, her green eyes reflecting her amusement. "Such venom! Your way with words could really make a woman swoon, Lightning."

"What do you want to happen, then?" Lightning asked, choosing to ignore the light taunt. But she wasn't entirely sure she was ready for something like that yet – not after she'd only just figured it out. She needed time to get used to it, let it sit more easily in her head.

Right now, it just felt awkward and out of place, that it wasn't really _her_ , having these feelings and realizations. Lightning wasn't even sure if she _wanted_ things to progress at all.

Fang was making a great show of looking thoughtful, though. "Depends. I got a few ideas that might be fun, and could lead to some interesting places-"

"Don't even start this." Lightning moved quickly to cut her off.

"Oh, c'mon. Not even a kiss?" Fang's voice took a slightly wheedling tone, as if she were trying to convince Lightning to buy the next round of drinks at a bar.

"Fang," Lightning growled.

Fang threw up her hands in defeat, but there was still the ghost of a smirk on her lips. "Alright, _fine_ then. A kiss on the cheek for my troubles? Surely you can swing _that_."

Lightning didn't even deign that one with an answer, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at Fang's carefully innocent look. She wasn't going to do any of those things, not yet. Maybe not ever. Fang had to understand that.

"Pfft. You really _are_ no fun," Fang complained with a sigh, flopping back against the rocky wall. There was silence, only punctuated by the crackling of the fire. The skewers of meat were beginning to blacken and smoke now.

But Fang was right, even if it was just meant to be a light-hearted complaint. Lightning wasn't exactly the mostfunto be around _._ Boring, flat, stoic, focused on one thing and one thing only. She'd been that way for a long time. But she wasn't really happy with _Fang_ thinking of her as boring, though. She enjoyed Fang's company – her stomach fluttered a little then – and she hated to admit that she wanted Fang to enjoy _hers_ as well.

She glanced at Fang's pouting profile quickly. She was… Lightning swallowed unsteadily. Fang was gorgeous, and the reddish light highlighted the intensity of her green eyes, played over the toned muscle and curves of her body. Lightning looked abruptly back to the small fire. Why continue to deny what she knew she wanted? Her pride was already in shreds. And it would just be the one...

"…fine." Lightning's voice was deliberately quiet.

"'Fine' what?" Fang's lips were twitching in the effort to fend of a grin. Was she laughing at Lightning?

"If you're going to be difficult, this isn't happening," Lightning told the other woman in a voice that she hoped was calm and collected. She certainly didn't feel that way. Her heart was racing and she was finding it difficult to get her throat working properly.

"Trust the Drill Sergeant to have the sense of humour – and romanticism – of a goat," Fang said with a grin, shifting on the ground so that she was facing Lightning again. "So you're graciously consenting to a kiss, then?"

"That's correct," Lightning said with a curt nod. The romanticism of a _what_?

Lightning set her jaw determinedly. That was it. She was going through with this, no matter how embarrassing or awkward it could be. Fang just tilted her head, resting her chin on her palm and looked Lightning straight in the eyes, her green eyes searching for something. Lightning's mouth felt dry, her heartbeat pounded in her ears and she seemed to have forgotten how to breathe. She felt stripped bare from the heat from that look.

Fang nodded to herself finally, and reached out her hand. Lightning tensed as Fang leaned forwards and touched her cheek. The other woman's hand felt warm, if slightly roughened by the calluses on her palm and fingers. Lightning had to force herself to breathe out as one of Fang's fingers traced under her jaw line, tilting her chin up gently as Fang edged closer. Another hand combed fingers through Lightning's wild bangs, a welcome distraction.

Eden, but Fang was so close now – the first pangs of something that felt a lot like panic contracted her stomach painfully. Fang paused, her lips not an inch from Lightning's ear. The hand tangled in her bangs brushed them aside gently as Fang told her quietly,

"Relax, Light, or you're not gonna enjoy it. Anyone would think you don't want this…"

With that final 'sage' piece of advice, Fang tilted Lightning's chin upwards. The sudden pressure of Fang's lips on her own was dizzying, and it was only because Fang's hands held her steady that Lightning didn't break contact. Her lips were warm, placing soft and gentle kisses that seemed to devour every ounce of energy from Lightning's body and every scrap intelligence from her mind, constant and reassuring.

 _I think that's more than one kiss,_ Lightning noted somewhere in her mind. Taking a handful of silken fabric to steady herself, Lightning felt her eyes close, her mind hazy from the new sensation. She was supposed to kiss back, wasn't she? She felt Fang twitch in surprise at her sudden response.

Fang's lips pressed against her own again in a lingering kiss, her fingers moving from under Lightning's chin to hook her arm around Lightning's waist. Lightning vaguely realized that Fang's other hand was still tangled in her hair, and let the other woman pull her closer. She could feel Fang's warm body pressed tight against her, feel the wiry strength of her arms and the soft curves of her breasts against her own. Fang kissed her lips once more, before moving against her skin in a lazy trail to Lightning's ear.

"You aren't the first to feel like this, and I'd say you ain't going to be the last to feel it either," Fang murmured against it, but obviously not seeing fit to release Lightning from her hold. Lightning felt a shiver run down her spine at the sensation of warm breath on her neck. "It's not a bad thing that you feel like this."

Lightning was of the opinion that it was a little early to be making that call yet, and opened her eyes slowly. Her head was swimming, and her heart was still pounding. Well, she'd done it. She was just sorry that it was over. She hadn't been expecting such gentleness from a woman who was normally violent and arrogant.

"Fang," Lightning said quietly, looking over towards the fire. She frowned.

"Mm?"

"The food's on fire."


	3. Mah'habara Subterra

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Part Three** – It’s difficult to return to equilibrium after what has happened between them, but Lightning isn’t giving in on this ‘normal’ business. The party presses onwards, and Fang wonders how to address the tension between Vanille and Lightning.

Morning on Gran Pulse always dawned far too bright and early, heralded by the howls of the lobos and the screech of amphisbaena taking to the air. Lightning groaned as the morning sunlight fell across her eyes, flinging an arm over her face in an effort to stop her eyes from burning. Her body still hadn't adjusted to the time differences between Cocoon and Gran Pulse.

Groggily, Lightning rolled over. The ground was more uncomfortable than normal, and she'd been having a good dream, Lightning remembered vaguely. She remembered that there had been Fang, and she had been–

With a muffled oath, Lightning sat bolt upright, her bleary eyes desperately taking in her surroundings. A cave with a narrow entrance, and there was the scattered remains of a campfire outside. Her companion, and the very _reason_ she'd been so far from base camp, lay about half a pace away from her. Fang was snoring softly, and her silken, blue sari had been stripped off and used as a blanket. It revealed even more of Fang's lean, tanned legs, and the uneasy soldier twitched at the sight.

She quickly glanced down at herself – her white jacket had been thrown off to one side, her gloves and pauldron had been removed and her cape had become a makeshift pillow.

Lightning pinched the bridge of her nose, squeezing her eyes shut. Slowly, almost reluctantly, memories began to drift back into her mind. She remembered that Fang had followed her out into the Steppe, had forced Lightning to confess to that damned lingering attraction last night. Lightning had decided to let Fang kiss her, just to see how it was, and then…

She pushed her bangs out of her eyes in frustration, her mind still struggling with fatigue. Had they gone further? Surely she'd be able to remember _that._ Her mind searched back, going through everything she recalled from the night before, going step by step. Nothing _seemed_ out of the ordinary.

Eden, _none_ of it seemed real, except for that dull ache in her shoulder. A quick cure spell fixed it up, and the joint was as good as new again. Muttering softly to herself, Lightning had to admit that this time, Fang had been correct. Lightning's focus had been scattered and it had rendered her magic near useless. Still, she'd have to get Hope to take a proper look at it later. Speaking of which, they really had to start moving back to base camp.

Beside her, Fang mumbled something incomprehensible. Lightning froze as the other woman grabbed her wrist, trying to tug her back down to the rocky ground. How Fang was still managing to sleep on the uneven stone was a mystery, Lightning noted in exasperation. But even with last night's kiss, she wasn't sure why Fang had decided to be so familiar with her -

"Etro's hands," Fang finally growled, rolling over and looking up at Lightning with a groggy but accusatory frown. Her hair was mussed, sticking up in a mix of clumps and tangled braids. "I can practically _hear_ you stressing out already. What's wrong _this_ time?"

Ignoring the implied taunt, Lightning grabbed her white jacket off the cave's floor and brushed it down, before shouldering into it. Pulling on her pauldron and buckling it into place, Lightning rose to her feet swiftly. Since the day had begun, there was no use sitting around this cave. There was still Sazh and the kids – she included Snow in that category – to think about, no matter that she still felt like sleeping for another few hours.

"We need to get back to the others, before they think something's amiss," she told Fang curtly as she slipped on her gloves, jerking her head in an explicit order for Fang to start moving.

Fang just leaned back on her elbows, not bothering to stifle the wide yawn that bubbled past her lips. "Can't you ever give the drill sergeant act a rest? I like you better when you're not being a pain in the arse."

Lightning met her sleepy gaze steadily, resting a hand on her hip.

Over the past week and a half that Lightning had known Fang, she had proven to be a notorious over-sleeper. The promise of a day hunting marks, a direct challenge, or implying that Vanille was in some form of danger, were really the only sure-fire things that would rouse Fang early in the morning. The latter was a low blow, but every minute they spent here was another minute lost to the Focus. Another minute that the others could piece together the reason behind Lightning's mood swings.

Just because she'd admitted the truth to herself and Fang, did _not_ mean she was willing to share it with Snow, Hope, Sazh and Vanille.

Especially not Vanille.

"So you don't mind leaving Vanille in Snow's tender care, then? Hasn't Vanille told you about the Hanging Edge?" Lightning asked slowly, turning away from Fang, confident that the huntress' own insecurities and perpetual worries about Vanille's safety would do all the convincing for her.

Behind her, Fang laughed shortly and levered herself to her feet with the aid of her spear, grabbing her wrinkled, silken sari off the ground as she went. "You ain't _nearly_ so subtle as you think you're being, Light, but… I can kinda see your point. Snow's a great guy, he'd do his best, but he's just not someone I'd be all that overjoyed about trusting Vanille's safety to."

Lightning made a sound that was both irritated and amused. With the slightly paranoid way Fang had been roping Vanille into every party expedition they'd formed thus far?

"I had no idea," Lightning answered dryly, scooping up Fang's neglected pack and holding it out for the other woman to take.

Fang scoffed at her sarcastic reply, grabbing the pack from Lightning's outstretched hand and tossing it unceremoniously to the ground again. Fang placed her hands on her hips and rounded on her, as if Lightning had just done something greatly offensive.

Lightning watched Fang's antics with a raised eyebrow, trying to ignore the slight heat rising in her cheeks as the huntress' eyes roved up and down her body. She cursed under her breath. Did Fang have to be so open about it all?

Eden, if Serah could see this – if even _Hope_ could see this…

"So you want to go, then? Right now?" Fang's voice was low, her tone almost mocking. Lightning scowled at her.

_Trust Fang to find an invitation when none was ever given._

"Obviously." Lightning kept her voice steady as she bent to grab Fang's backpack again, deliberately ignoring Fang's slightly annoyed look.

"Trust you to be difficult about this whole thing," Fang told Lightning, leaning in a little closer, so close now that Lightning could feel the warmth from Fang's body. The soldier fought to stand her ground, even if every single fibre of her body screamed _violation of personal space_. "Not even one quick taste?"

 _Taste…_ Lightning blinked, then felt the cool, rough cave wall bump up against her back. She mentally cursed in realization. Standing her ground? Eden, this was _going to have to stop._ Still holding Fang's pack, Lightning crossed her arms against her chest. She met the other woman's green gaze levelly, even though her entire body was roaring at her to push Fang away and reject the way her heart was fluttering at the unwanted – _welcome_ – closeness.

"Why would I want something?"

In spite of all her best efforts, Lightning's voice came out a little bit hoarse. That was _also_ something that was going to have to stop. She was not some skittish, raw recruit who'd never been out in the field. Fang was too close, but Lightning was fully trained, and she was in control. She'd been taught to maintain a grip of steel on her emotions, and aside from a few slips over the past week, that hadn't changed.

 _Cold and serene, like the edge of a blade…_ No matter how she scrabbled after it, the mantra fled Lightning's mind with Fang's next words.

"A kiss," Fang murmured against her ear, her breath tickling the side of Lightning's neck as the soldier forced herself not to lean into the unusual sensation. "Don't you lie to me, Light, 'cause you made a great show of enjoyin' it last night."

Fang was right. Lightning had enjoyed the kiss last night, probably more than she should have, she realized with dismay. Especially if she wasn't planning on letting this become a permanent arrangement between them.

But the memory of the softness of Fang's lips stood out like a beacon in her mind, the gentleness of the kisses, the strange sense of released tension in her chest after it was all done. But Eden, it really _had_ felt good…

Lightning swallowed unsteadily, feeling far too aware of the closeness of Fang's warm body. It was a sensation that Lightning wasn't used to, but she couldn't say that she disliked it. She met Fang's green eyes, and she nodded.

"That a yes?" Apparently, Fang liked things being as explicit as possible, Lightning noted with a frown.

"What do you _think_ -" The rest was silenced by the dizzying feel of Fang's lips on hers once again.

Fang's calloused fingers were cupping her face gently, running rough her wild bangs again. This kiss was nowhere near as gentle as last night's kiss had been, but no less captivating. It was deeper, faster, and there was something about it that made the breath in Lightning's throat catch and her heart pound. It brought to mind something else entirely less innocent than a simple kiss, she realized. In spite of herself, Lightning closed her eyes, felt her body responding to the sensations. She thought she could smell jasmine-

The absence of Fang's lips was enough to jolt Lightning from her reverie, the suddenness leaving her breathless. As she watched Fang reach down to retrieve the backpack that Lightning didn't remember dropping during the kiss, Lightning touched her lips gently. She scowled – why were her hands quivering? She clenched the offending hand into a fist, a futile effort to stop it from shaking.

_Absolutely unacceptable._

The more traitorous part of Lightning's mind noted that kiss had been over before it had even begun. Lightning stifled the thoughts quickly – she was being ridiculous. How much longer was she expecting it to last? She'd said it herself. They had to get back to the others, or Snow and Vanille would enrage the wrong monsters and they'd arrive to find utter chaos.

Besides, if Lightning wasn't going to let this become a permanent arrangement between them, she couldn't complain when the kiss was too short. She shouldn't even be comparing the two, really. Lightning crossed her arms over her chest, wishing her heart would stop fluttering. Eden, she shouldn't have even let that last kiss happen, no matter how much she'd craved it.

 _No more._ Lightning's will firmed. _This ends now._

Before she got a chance to inform Fang that this relationship was _not_ happening between them, Fang was waving for Lightning to follow her out onto the Steppe. The two women squeezed through the cave entrance, and emerged, blinking furiously, into bright sunlight.

The morning was truly underway, Lightning realized with a sinking sensation in her stomach, as she allowed Fang take the lead. When they finally got back to camp, no doubt there would be questions. Why did Lightning leave like that, why were they out all night when they weren't even that far from base camp? Eden, she wasn't even sure if she could look either Snow or Hope in the face as she was right now-

"You know," Fang mused, her voice light and conversational as they began the trek over the grassy plains, back towards the Vallis Media base camp. "I think I kinda like you like this."

Lightning shot a sharp look at the huntress' retreating back, wondering what game she was playing at. She shook herself to clear her mind, to focus. "Like what?"

"Off balance and all cute-like." Fang made the answer sound like it were the most obvious thing in the world, and she shot the soldier a knowing smirk over her shoulder. "Makes for a nice change of pace. Wonder how long it'll last?"

 _Cute-like?_ Lightning looked away, fixing her gaze to the rocky walls of the gorge as they approached. They passed through the first of the rocky corridor without incident, deftly avoiding the group of flans that attempted to block their path. _Off_ - _balance_ was nothing but another word for weakness, something that Lightning couldn't afford these days.

Lightning sighed. She didn't have time for this _mess_ either, and it was time she set Fang straight. No more flirting, no more touching. No more kisses. Lightning tried to ignore the way her stomach sank a little, tried to silence that old voice that always wondered, _what if…_

"Fang-"

"It's gonna have to wait," Fang cut in, shooting a level look over her shoulder as she waved a hand in the direction of the camp. "You got that damn stubborn look about you again, but if you hadn't _kindly_ noticed, we're already in view of the others." Suddenly, Fang grinned. "You want Snow to see you all hot under the collar?"

Lightning tightened her jaw. Damn Fang, but she was right again. Lightning's stomach clenched as she spotted Hope and Vanille sitting together by the fire, saw Snow doing warm-up stretches, saw Sazh busily preparing the party's breakfast. If she started arguing with Fang now, then the others might catch wind of what had happened.

Even worse, what would _Vanille_ say if she learned the truth? Fang had sworn that there was nothing between them, but the two were so interconnected that it was impossible to separate one from the other. How would Vanille react to a revelation that Lightning was… attracted to her adoptive sister?

It was yet another mark against starting anything permanent with Fang. There were far too many complications to consider.

Ahead of them, Lightning could see Snow raise an ungloved hand in a warm greeting. Fang followed the direction of Lightning's anxious gaze, raising an eyebrow.

"Loved the eloquence there. You've a real way with words, Light." At Lightning's continued silence as they neared the camp, Fang heaved a long-suffering sigh, running a hand through her wavy, dark hair. "You're a little worried about Vanille. She loves a good bit of gossip. Been that way ever since we were ankle-biters in Oerba. But. Since this seems to be such a big deal to you, I'll respect that. You've got my vow of silence on the matter, even when it comes to Vanille. Well, as much as I can, in any case."

Lightning sighed, and was careful to keep her voice low, so as not to carry on the brisk morning breeze. "That's not reassuring, Fang."

Fang just shrugged. "Weren't meant to be, now _shut up_ and act normal if you don't wanna tip Vanille off. She's like a bloodhound with this kind of thing."

The crunch of grass underfoot stopped Lightning from voicing her sharp retort, and she watched with carefully controlled detachment as Snow jogged over. In spite of his alertness, he still seemed to be missing his usual bandana and combat gloves. It must have been a late rise for the party this morning, since Lightning hadn't been around to marshal them into wakefulness.

"Oh, hey you two! Was wondering when you'd show up," Snow said enthusiastically, as he took it upon himself to escort the wayward party members back to the campfire. He pumped a fist as he saw Sazh beginning to dish out the warmed leftovers – probably what had been last night's meal – into a number of old, chipped bowls they'd uncovered in the Pulsian ruins. "You're just in time for Sazh's breakfast bonanza. You guys must be starving!"

Lightning rested a hand on her hip, listening to Snow chatter away. It was reassuring – not because of what he was saying, but because of how _normal_ it felt.

Lightning nodded to herself, feeling the tension between her shoulder blades easing. Everything was just as normal, and that realization made it easier to maintain the cool and militant collectedness that she prized. Silently, she took one of the bowls, and made her way over to where Hope had taken a seat at the fire.

Having already given her a quick wave when she and Fang had first entered the camp – his mouth had been too full of food to greet her – Hope leaned back as she took a cautious spoonful of the 'breakfast', his green eyes watchful and filled with unasked questions. Questions that Lightning wasn't sure how to answer, either. Couldn't they all be as self-absorbed as Snow was?

"You two were gone a long time," Hope said quietly, his eyebrows creasing in a worried frown. "What was wrong?"

The food seemed to lose all taste as Lightning forced herself not to freeze, but never before had a simple statement seemed so threatening.

As if sensing Lightning's heightened tension, Fang had wandered over, and in one lazy motion, had flicked Hope in the back of the head. He jumped, rubbing the new sore spot with a scowl.

"Enough of the doubting, kiddo. At least I managed to fix her up before she self-destructed on us all," Fang told him with a smirk, clearly amused by the crisis she'd averted.

Lightning appreciated that she'd moved to head off the more awkward questions, but did Fang have to go and say it like _that_? As if her brand had been ready to erupt and turn her cie'th last night? She shot Fang a sharp frown, one that the other woman deigned to ignore.

The flippant remark seemed to have served its purpose, because while Hope's eyes were still questioning, seeming to still want to press for more information, he remained silent. Vanille and Snow, however, had found Fang's description of the situation hilarious, and both had begun to laugh hard enough to break a rib. Lightning narrowed her eyes, exhaling sharply as she continued to eat in cold silence.

_Idiots._

Standing by the campfire, still holding onto a pair of battered-looking bowls, Sazh seemed to look at Fang and Lightning for a long moment. His eyes moved back and forth between them, taking in Fang's smirk and Lightning's cold sneer, as if trying to figure something out. That innocent glance quickly turned wary, and he backed away slowly, as if he was expecting to be set on by rabid lobos at any moment.

"Hey, whatever you say happened, happened. Not my business, you hear?" he told them, and he handed Vanille one of the bowls, before taking a seat next to Snow.

Lightning shot him a look out the corner of her eye. Couldn't fool some, it seemed, but at least Sazh looked like he was going to keep his mouth shut about his suspicions. Thank Eden for that small godsend.

###

After nearly five days of aimless wandering on the Steppe's grassy plains, it looked like her new 'family' had finally decided to get their arses into gear and move it along towards Oerba. About time, too. If they spent much longer in this place, she was certain Snow would go cie'th from sheer boredom. Every day they wasted, their brands would grow worse, and Fang had to admit she was itching to get the show on the road.

It was a long trek back home, though, made even tougher by her and Vanille's outdated knowledge of Gran Pulse. Was Atomos still carving out the Mah'habara Subterra? Was Taejin's Tower still whole? A thousand things could have changed about this world – it was all so familiar, but it was also different.

Fang snorted to herself as she stuffed her blankets hastily into her pack. Worst case scenario, the journey could take months, and that was time they just didn't have. Fang paused, brushing her hair over her shoulder again, and glanced over to where Vanille was helping Sazh fold up one of the thin tents near the campfire.

Vanille sure didn't seem worried – at least, not to the casual observer. But Fang had grown up with her, and known Vanille since the beginning. There were none alive that could say they had a better understanding of the sweet redhead, and to Fang, it was obvious that Vanille had a hell of a lot on her mind, and it was weighing her down.

She sighed a little. Etro, did Fang have to play therapist to _every_ member of their merry little band? It wasn't as if she had no issues of her own to think about – or to avoid thinking about. Fang didn't enjoy lingering on her memories of the War of Transgression, and she was glad that the past few days had provided her with distractions.

Shaking her head in exasperation, Fang shot a look towards Lightning's back. Fang let herself smile a little, as she watched Lightning order Snow and Hope about, acting like a bloody general, attempting to get them to locate the collection of the supplies that had been scattered about the camp.

Now, Lightning was something she _much_ preferred to think on, instead of that War. Sure, Fang might not have been taking the soldier's _delicate feelings_ on the matter all that seriously, but their little chat had certainly yielded… pleasing results.

Fang lifted a hand, lightly touching her own lips. Who'd have thought that _Lightning_ – who until that point, had deliberately presented as utterly asexual and uninterested in such lowly human activities – could actually be interesting? Not a bad kiss, either. For a first timer.

Fang's eyes followed Lightning as she strode about the camp, observed the way her lightly curling hair fell over one shoulder, noted the dispassionate look in her eyes. For a woman who had been suffering a sexuality crisis just a night ago, Lightning seemed remarkably calm and collected. Like ice, like iron.

Maybe that was why she'd wanted to kiss Lightning, both last night and that morning. For just a moment, the coldness in those blue eyes seemed to melt, the iron chain of control seemed to shatter. In their wake, there was only a little confusion, warmth, and a startling sweetness. It made Fang want to try it again and again, to savour the reaction and see if it changed.

Fang tore her gaze away, fully aware that she'd been staring. To cover it up, she gave the camp a quick look-over. From the looks of things, Vanille and Sazh had finished up whatever mess they'd been making with the tent, and Sazh was taking a breather to feed his chocobo.

Vanille, however, seemed to have noticed where Fang's gaze had been lingering. Tilting her head and staring at where Lightning was now arguing loudly with Snow over something that was probably inconsequential, Fang could almost _see_ the cogs in her sister's head begin to turn.

Fang stiffened. Had she not promised to keep last night's events quiet, Fang might have normally just shrugged her shoulders and washed her hands of the sorry mess. But she _had_ promised Lightning, and Fang tended to take her promises very seriously.

At the rate things were going, it looked like it was time for an intervention. Fang smoothly rose to her feet, just as Vanille turned back to her. Those eyes were narrowing, Fang realized with a mental groan.

_Don't take a guess, don't take a guess._

It was useless, of course. The gig was up. Vanille's green eyes widened, and she had clapped a hand over her mouth as her eyes darted between where Lightning was standing, and where Fang was slowly advancing on her.

 _Oh, bloody hell, Vanille!_ Fang growled silently as she began to sprint for her sister. _If you blurt this I swear I am going to tan your hide!_

" _Fang_!" Vanille squeaked out, as Fang finally reached her. "When you said you _fixed_ her, I didn't think you meant-"

"Oh no no _no_. We're going to have to quick chat, missy, before you say something _you might regret,_ " Fang cut in quickly, shooting Sazh a glace before grabbing her sister by the wrist. It didn't look as if he'd been listening at all, but it was better to be safe than sorry, right? Fang forcefully dragged Vanille away before she could say something unfortunate, and no matter how her sister squirmed, Fang only brought them to a halt once they were a good distance from the base camp.

Fang blew a wayward lock of hair out of her face as she fixed Vanille with one of her most serious stares. Etro, the girl was still openly staring at Lightning's back! Not that there wasn't a lot to stare about, especially with an arse like that, but it was the principle of it all!

"I gotta ask. Do you have some sort of latent psychic power you're not telling me about?" Fang demanded in a low voice, drawing Vanille's attention back to the present with a light flick between her eyes. "Because I got no idea how you keep _doing_ this."

It was true. Vanille had always had an uncanny ability to pick out who Fang had spent the previous night with, but this was really starting to creep her out. Sometimes, it was a real pain in the rear to be so close to your sister. Privacy? Who ever heard about _privacy?_

Vanille laced both fingers behind her back, tilting her head ever so slightly and looked at Fang through her fiery red bangs. It was a look that the huntress had dubbed – with both great affection and dread – 'the kitten stare'.

"So just how dumb do you think I _am,_ Fang?" Vanille asked sweetly, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips as she spun away from Fang.

Fang rested a hand on her hip, raising an eyebrow as she reached forwards to muss with Vanille's hair.

"Can I answer that one honestly, or – _oww_! Quit it with the pointy elbows, y'hear?" Fang scowled at her sister, rubbing the new tender spot on her ribs, as Vanille stuck her tongue out at her. That was better, because it seemed like forever since they'd been like this.

There was always so much stress over the Focus, and Vanille always seemed a little preoccupied with whatever shadows played in her mind.

It reminded Fang of another time, of carefree laughter in the flowers that had surrounded the fal'Cie Anima. Fang shook her head, trying to clear her own mind of those same lingering shadows, the distorted shapes and half-formed ideas that she couldn't recognize yet. They were linked with the old Focus, weren't they? It reminded her of the blood and terror of the War of Transgression. She pushed those thoughts aside again.

 _Later,_ Fang promised herself. She'd deal with her past later.

" _Only_ if you tell the truth!" Vanille was saying, reminding Fang of the reason she'd unceremoniously dragged her sister all the way over there.

"Truth is subjective, Vanille." Fang waved an airy hand in Lightning's general direction. "But I suppose I could throw the gossip-monger a little bone. Last night, I tracked Lightning down and sorted out a few things with her, before she turned cie'th and devoured us all."

Vanille looked sceptical. Where hadshe learned to raise her eyebrow so disdainfully? Sazh was teaching her some odd things.

"And that's all you did? _That's_ unlike you. I seem to remember you bedhopping a lot, back before." Vanille strolled a few paces away, her arms crossed beneath her breasts. The sun was well and truly up, now, and even in the shade Vanille's hair was gleaming a vibrant red.

And _bedhopper_? Ouch. Was it her fault that sex was fun, when compared to the shithole war around them?

Despite her annoyance, Fang kept her voice level and conversational as she met Vanille step for step. "Lightning's a Cocoon viper, and she's about as repressed as a damn fal'Cie's priestess. What in Etro's name were you expecting? Hot sex up against a wall somewhere?"

Vanille's look turned speculative as they kept wandering away from the prying ears of others, and Fang moved quickly to head off Vanille's obvious line of thought.

"Now, now, keep that mind out of the gutter. You're _meant_ to be the innocent one here. Whatever would the Matron of the orphanage think? She might scrub your tongue with that nasty bar of soap." Fang grinned at Vanille's sudden pout. Her sister hadn't had that punishment nearly as often as Fang had, but it was enough to leave a lasting impression.

"Oh, c'mon, Fang! You've been making all these comments about Light ever since the _Palamecia_! The least you could do is talk to me when something does happen!"

"You're fussing about this." Fang didn't even try to disguise her amusement as she reached out and squeezed Vanille's shoulder reassuringly.

Vanille looked back towards the camp. To Fang, her entire body language screamed 'apprehension' – from the frown creasing her forehead, the way she was lightly biting her lip, the uneasy set to her shoulders.

"Fang, we don't even _know_ her very well," Vanille told her, her green eyes reflecting her worry. And folks reckoned that _Fang_ was the overprotective one. "Of course I'm fussing! It's… not really the same as with all the others, is it? You actually like her."

"Yeah. I suppose… I do, a little."

Her sister had raised a good point, to be fair. They'd known Lightning for a _staggering_ one and a half weeks, and the soldier hadn't exactly been all warm and fuzzy with them. No, prying personal background out of Lightning could be like dealing with a particularly disagreeable clam, aside from that lapse in Palumpolum. Given Lightning's reluctance to open up, there _was_ something strange about Fang's fondness of her.

But how had Lightning put it? They understood one another, didn't they? Fang looked back over to where Lightning was marshalling the rest of the l'Cie, heard the sharpness of the woman's voice as it carried on the wind.

Lightning was certainly _different_ from the women Fang usually found herself attracted to. Farron was uptight, controlled, and she was a viper from Cocoon, no less. Under normal circumstances, they'd be sworn enemies. But in spite of the world of differences between them, Fang had to admit it – at their core, their motivations were identical. It felt like she already knew how Lightning ticked, no matter how reticent the other woman could be.

_Funny, how we managed to get under each other's skin, without even realizing it._

But she couldn't deny that there were threads of conflict between Vanille and Lightning – nothing huge, but she wasn't that eager to foster ill-feeling in their strange little band. Given Lightning's confessions the night before, Fang knew what was bothering Lightning. Misinterpretations of the extent of Fang's relationship with her adoptive sister, not to mention more than a little jealousy. Vanille, on the other hand, was generally upbeat about her sister's wandering eyes. She was overprotective, sure, but that was just what Oerbans tended to do with outsiders.

 _Outsiders, huh?_ Maybe that was the problem. Maybe Vanille hadn't been so quick to adopt the other l'Cie as Fang had thought.

There was a dead-easy way to change the status quo, though. Vanille and Lightning spending a little quality time together would be easy enough to arrange, and would probably ease the friction she sensed between them. Vanille would get to know Fang's latest interest, and Lightning would get to know Vanille, and quit acting like a jealous brat. Win-win situation!

Fang leaned forwards to ruffle Vanille's hair again, smiling. "Right, so, then maybe we can work something out with Lightning, hey? Might help you guys get to know each other a little."

Vanille smiled back at her, pushing Fang's hand down and trying to smooth her bangs again. "Thanks, Fang. It's not that I don't like her, I just… don't know her. You know?"

"I know. But jus' promise me one thing. Now that you've stuck your cute little nose in this, could you please _not_ torture her about it? I've worked too hard to get her this far without you going and making her skittish again."

As she and Vanille began to walk back to the remains of the base camp, Fang smirked. Yeah, it seemed like a fine plan. A little good old fashioned friendship between Vanille and Lightning would do them a world of good.

###

"Wonder what they're talking about?" Snow asked, scratching the back of his neck as he watched the distant figures of the two women.

Lightning followed the direction of his gaze, her eyes narrowing. Mindful not to disturb the Curaga spell Hope was performing on her, Lightning just exhaled sharply. She didn't have to wonder what those two were discussing, not when they kept glancing covertly in her direction. Hadn't Fang mentioned something about withholding the information from Vanille until later?

At some point that day, Lightning would have to talk to Fang, make her see why Lightning was dead serious about _stopping_ all this. She shot a look at the three men standing around her, each in various stages of abject boredom. That talk would have to wait, though. Lightning tried not to feel too relieved at having to put it off.

"Women's business, that'd be _my_ guess," Sazh told Snow, stroking the chick in his palm. In spite of the hopelessness of their situation on Gran Pulse, the older man was always one to pull it together and keep going. She supposed that was just Sazh's fatherly instincts, though.

Hope smiled at Lightning as he finished up with his Curaga, straightening and rising to his feet. He'd been doing a lot better since the Alexander incident, not three days passed. He was more confident in himself, in his worth and his ability to keep up with the rest of the l'Cie. Hope wasn't just a scared kid anymore, and from the squared set of his shoulders, he knew that now.

"You should be fine, Light. Just try to stay in one piece today," Hope said, looking up suddenly, in the direction where Fang and Vanille had vanished. Lightning rested her hand on her hip as she followed his gaze, seeing the two women walking back. Finally, those two were ready to go. As they neared, she scowled at Fang, who had the nerve to look completely innocent.

 _Right. Some vow of silence._ They really would have to talk about this later, Lightning promised silently as she led the group of l'Cie out onto the grassy plains of the Archylte Steppe. For now, they headed for Oerba, and prayed that someone – anyone – would be there.

###

Some beasties always stayed the same, Fang thought as they edged past the cliff where a King Behemoth was mauling a Megistotherian, the furious battle leaving deep scores in the soft, grassy earth and splattered blood over dirt and stone. Even when everything else about Gran Pulse had changed, you could always count on a King Behemoth to pick a fight with the prickliest of prey – such as the most cantankerous soldier in all of Gran Pulse and Cocoon, as last night's escapades had proven.

Smiling a little, Fang shot a look over her shoulder, to where Hope and Vanille were crouched down, warily following her past the brawling monsters. Fang had to hand it to the soldier, though. Lightning sure knew a thing or two when it came to training recruits, especially ones as raw as Hope had been. From Vanille's rather animated explanation of the events leading up to her capture in that quaint little fun park, the kid had been a bit…

Well, he'd been a sheltered little brat, to put a fine point on it. Fang supposed that she should cut him a little slack, or keep the backhanded compliments to a low key – seeing his ma die in front of his eyes like that would have been tough, but that was just the way things rolled in a war.

Fang watched Vanille and Hope cautiously make their way over to her, the smile vanishing from her lips. Unbidden, the War of Transgression loomed in her mind. Her memories of it were staggering in their violence, soaked in crimson from fire and blood and death. She remembered the fighting with such vividness, and then it all tapered off to nothing.

She felt a shadow of emotion stir inside her, an echo of anger, despair and regret. Fang looked at the back of her hand, watching the knuckles whiten as she tightened her grip on her lance. She supposed the memories would come soon enough.

 _Ragnarok._ That name… That had been what Barthandelus had said, hadn't it?

Out of the corner of her eye, and a good distance ahead of their position, she saw Snow pounding over the grass. Snow was a little red in the face from the run, but he didn't seem all that alarmed. So Lightning, Sazh and Snow hadn't picked a fight they couldn't handle, then. That was a relief.

Fang shouldered her lance, scanning the area Snow had come from, trying to place it. Etro, the place had changed so much! Fang couldn't easily tell where she was, these days, and once she'd known it like the back of her hand. Once, she'd fought Cocoon here, in the ruins of a dying city.

But that was enough of _that,_ though.

"Yo!" Snow panted, as he skidded to a halt in front of them. "We… we found something! It looks like one big-ass tunnel."

Fang raised an eyebrow, automatically turning to meet her sister's green eyes. Big-arse tunnel? She began to chuckle. After all these years, it looked as if Atomos still hadn't decided to take a coffee break. What a relentless bastard! The familiarity was strangely reassuring, in this world of change and silence.

"A tunnel?" Vanille voiced Fang's similar thoughts, clapping her hands and smiling brightly. "That's got to be the Mah'habara Subterra!"

"Then you know it?" Snow pumped a fist, flashing the group a confident grin. "Say, do you guys happen to know where it leads?"

Fang shrugged, deliberately playing down her elation at the subterra still existing. Etro, it was a flaming _tunnel._

"Could. If it's what we two are thinking of, then there's a good chance we can follow a path through the mountains, right up to Taejin's Tower."

"Like a shortcut?" Hope asked her softly, speaking to Fang directly for the first time that day. Maybe the kid was growing a spine, after all.

"I'd say it'd save a li'l bit of footwork, but I wouldn't call it easier on the body," Fang told them as she strode forwards, swinging her lance down. "Those beasties in there, they'll be a whole 'nother level. They'll make gorgonopsids and amphisbaenalook like exhibits at a pettin' zoo." She grinned, then. "You Cocoon folk won't know what hit you."

Vanille was just rolling her eyes at Fang's over-dramatic warning. Way to spoil the effect. Still, Hope looked a little green at her words, so it wasn't like it was a total loss.

"Well, uh, nothing to it but to do it, right?" Snow muttered, rubbing the back of his head with a little confusion. "C'mon, we _really_ don't want to keep them waiting."

No need to wonder who Snow meant by 'them', Fang observed with a smirk as he dutifully led the way, back to where his party had discovered the entrance to the old Mah'habara Subterra. Maybe Lightning really _was_ breaking him in, if she commanded him to jump and he was starting to ask 'how high'…

As they rounded the bend, Lightning and Sazh came into view, waiting patiently by what looked to be a cavernous entrance. It looked like the subterra was a little different to how Fang remembered it – most of the gates and doors that had sealed the entrance off were gone now. Once again, she had to wonder what had happened here, why there had been such destruction wreaked on her home.

There had to be an answer to her questions. Somewhere. Her eyes lingered on Sazh, wondering.

Fang raised a hand in greeting as her group joined the other two. Lightning, leaning against the wall, her arms crossed against her chest, looked the picture of surliness. Fang rolled her eyes – the least the woman could do was acknowledge the greeting, or was that just too much effort?

Lightning's eyes were distant as she gave the group a cool once-over, all iron-hard control. Fang bit her lip, admiring the other woman's sharp profile. She almost wanted to lean forward and fluster the soldier a little more, dying to see if another kiss would thaw the woman out a little. In front of the rest of their group, how would Lightning react?

Despite her curiosity, Fang kept her hands to herself and her lips tightly compressed – she valued her life far too much to dare _that_.

"Are you ready?" Lightning asked, her voice flat and deadly serious.

"Are you?" Fang rested a hand on her hip in a blatant imitation of Lightning's usual stance. While Fang had refrained from open affection, she still couldn't resist needling Lightning for a reaction, to be rewarded with anything other than that damnable apathy. One of Lightning's eyebrows twitched in annoyance – mission accomplished.

"I know I'm sick of these plains. Gimme a scene change already," Snow complained loudly, and to his left, Vanille was nodding enthusiastically. Sazh was smiling, and Hope looked cautiously optimistic. Well, that settled that question.

As the group made its way down into the depths of the subterra, Fang glanced over at Vanille again. Her sister seemed positive again – maybe a little too positive, now that Fang carefully considered it.

One thing was for sure, though. She'd have to have a good talk with Vanille, about the past, about the Focus, and why the name Ragnarok created that echoes of emotions within her.


	4. The Earthworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part Four – Fang entrusts Lightning with a heavy responsibility, even as the shadows of Ragnarok begin to grow long in her mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As a note, I should say this. The scenes in the Massiff are optional, thus I’m not including them in this fic’s scope of events. Things just got too murky when I tried. Thus, Vanille has yet to speak about her memories of the War of Transgression, nor of the role Ragnarok played at the War’s conclusion.
> 
> Also, mostly going by memory of the game’s events right now, and the Fang/Ragnarok connection’s revelation I remember being murky at best. I don’t have the time to view a Let’s Play, and my PS3 is with my girlfriend, who lives 3 hours away. ((sigh)) Totally getting that PS3 back for Arkham City.
> 
> That said, I accept responsibility for any inconsistencies between this fic and the game’s canon.

The Mah'habara Subterra – or whatever strange name Vanille had called it – was a giant tunnel that seemed to stretch on forever, winding and twisting, and wide enough to comfortably accommodate an entire squadron of Guardian Corps soldiers. Walking abreast. With all the bells and whistles of a major operation. Not only was it wide, but they’d been travelling for what felt like hours, and part of Lightning began to wonder if the caves would end at all.

Even with plenty of room in which to fight, the damp smell of earth, and the shuffle of unseen monsters moving in the darkness still kept her on edge. Lightning tightened her grip on her blazefire saber, and she pushed ahead relentlessly. There was no time to back down. They just had to keep going, or they’d never even make it as far as Oerba.

Forcing herself to dismiss the morbid direction of her thoughts, Lightning glanced around. With the way cie’th and all manners of old robotic militia kept lunging from the dark at them, Lightning was glad she had both Sazh and Snow to watch her back, though she’d never admit it. Even Snow’s forced enthusiasm stopped grating, when it felt like one wrong step could mean the end of their journey.

Much further back, she could hear the echoes of Fang’s party taking down monsters that Lightning’s team had managed to avoid. Lightning made a small sound of amusement – it sounded like Fang was taking her clean-up mission seriously, if the whoops and roars of battle were any indication.

Lightning turned her attention back to the murky path that lay ahead of her group. In spite of her restraint, a small part of Lightning kept listening to the sounds of battle, wondering if Fang was as vocal and feral in the bedroom, as she was in battle.

 _Mind on the job, or your next step might be your last,_ Lightning rebuked herself quietly, remaining watchful of the flickering shadows on the edge of her vision, cast by the ruins of a dead civilization. Perhaps later, she’d have to ask Fang what this network of tunnels had been used for, back before the War of Transgression. From the looks of all the rusted machinery and the deep pits of blackness, she had to guess that it had been used as some sort of mine.

Her group had been travelling in the semi-darkness for a good few hours, before the subterra’s path split off. All exploration grinded to a halt as Lightning slowed warily, resting a hand on her hip as she gave each direction a brief once-over. Snow stopped a few paces ahead of her, took one look at the branching paths, and then heaved a sigh.

Lacing his fingers above his head and stretching, he muttered, “None of ‘em look all that promising, Sis. That ain’t fun.”

 _Too true,_ Lightning agreed, nodding curtly. Both directions were dark, treacherous, and probably infested with monsters, rogue machinery and cie’th. There was not a lot of choice. She glanced over to where Sazh was standing.

He shrugged as he caught Lightning’s questioning look, holstering his guns. “Guess all we can do is wait for the demolition trio to rock up. What’s taking them?”

At his seemingly innocent question, the more suspicious part of Lightning flared into life, slyly wondering if Fang was back there, laughing up last night’s confession with Vanille. Lightning crushed the thought ruthlessly. She was just being paranoid, and Fang’s group were just doing their agreed upon task for the day. She couldn’t complain when they were actually doing their job, for once.

“Tch. Last I heard, they were engaging those Pulsework Centurions we avoided. They can’t be far,” Lightning said finally, keeping her voice even to disguise her growing irritation with the wayward squad. With a sharp flick, she switched the bulky comm. link on her wrist to active. Sazh had rigged up the crude system, using a network of crystals and thunder enchantments. It was basic, but useful.

“Beta, this is Alpha. We’ve encountered a technical problem and can no longer advance. What’s your position?”

The radio crackled with feedback, and there were a few tense moments as Lightning wondered if the other group was going to answer at all. Had they all been knocked out by those hoplites? Maybe it had been a bad idea to call Fang on her usual boasts, Lightning realized with a sinking stomach. Those monsters would have been tough, even for a Gran Pulse native, even for someone as capable as Fang-

Suddenly, the radio blared into life.

 _“What the hell is this Alpha-Beta bullshit you came up with?”_ Fang scoffed, her voice sounding distorted by the poor quality radio. _“I’ll have you know that if anyone’s gonna be the **Alpha** around here, it’s gonna be-”_

The Pulsian woman’s rant was abruptly cut off, and there was the sound of jostling and curses. Lightning waited, rubbing her temple with her free hand, while Snow just guffawed at Fang’s comment over who had leadership over _who._ She shot him an annoyed look. Juvenile ass.

 _“Sorry about that, Light.”_ The new voice was younger and clearer. Hope, then. _“Fang got mauled pretty bad by some Cryohedrons, and Vanille and I aren’t sure she’s thinking right at the moment. We’ll have her patched up in no time, can you just hold on for a bit?”_

So Fang really had bitten off a bit more than she could chew, all because of that idiotic boasting. Lightning tried not to feel smug about Fang’s bluffs being so soundly called, but it might actually teach Fang a sound lesson about going into battle without proper preparation.

Still smirking, Lightning answered, “Very well. Hope, we’ll await your arrival.”

###

It was another half hour before Fang’s party shuffled slowly into view. Lightning frowned as they approached, quickly taking in Hope’s obvious exhaustion, Vanille’s slight limp, and Fang’s sweaty, mussed hair. Typical. Fang must have forced them to engage every enemy they’d come across, and had gotten soundly thrashed by that Cryohedron pack as a result.

Hope reached her side first. He leaned heavily against the rocky wall of the tunnel, and he cast a quick succession of cure spells on himself, sealing up the shallow grazes on his cheek. After having to cure the bone-headed fool that had led them into the mess, Lightning wasn’t surprised the boy was drained. Vanille, on the other hand, simply flopped to the ground next to Hope, groaning loudly and muttering threateningly about pigheaded, arrogant narcissists who couldn’t be forced to back down from a fight.

Lightning smirked as she crossed her arms over her chest. Covertly, she ran a critical eye over the exhausted huntress. The woman really did look like she’d taken a hard blow to the side of the head, but at the same time, there was something oddly triumphant about the way she was standing.

Lightning looked away, adjusting the settings on her blazefire saber absently. She had to admit, when Fang wasn’t being a complete ass – about everything from their Focus, how to play a shots game, right up to matters about Gran Pulse and Cocoon – she could be very attractive. Then again, maybe it was that absolute confidence in her abilities that had first captured Lightning’s less… platonic attention.

Of course, she could always count on Fang ruining the effect, by being as obnoxious and overbearing as possible.

“You lot of pansies have no idea how easy you had it on your little _scouter mode,”_ Fang declared, loudly, as she rolled a shoulder and massaged her tattooed upper arm.

Lightning eyed Fang warily, as the other woman propped herself against the wall beside the soldier. _Scouter_ mode? Fang had all but volunteered for threat-elimination duties!

“But I’ll be damned if I can remember rust puddings being such a pain in the arse, back before,” Fang continued after a moment, grabbing a potion from her pack and downing the neon-blue contents in a single gulp.

“No kidding!” Vanille said, from her seat on the rubble-strewn ground. She stuck her tongue out in Fang’s direction, blowing a childish raspberry. “But at least you weren’t the one who got splattered in flan from head to toe! No, you just had to dodge at the last moment and let _me_ take the hit! Thanks a _lot,_ Fang.”

“Don’t you give me that look, Vanille. A quick little water spell fixed that right up.” Fang shrugged, tapping the pouting redhead on the head with the folded end of her lance.

Vanille just rolled her eyes, and swatted the spear away. “I know I said you needed to work on your magic, but I didn’t want to get drenched then and there!”

“Technicalities,” the huntress said with a lazy wave of her hand, as if she could brush the subject aside just like that. Lightning looked aside abruptly, and with a little surprise, realized that her jaw had been clenched, her shoulders tensed.

 _This is ridiculous,_ Lightning told herself harshly as she forced her jaw to ease, her shoulders to relax. Jealousy was unbecoming, unprofessional and completely _irrational._ Besides, hadn’t Fang claimed that there was nothing between her and Vanille? Lightning nodded to herself as she sheathed her blazefire saber at her side. There was nothing to worry about. Fang and Vanille were sisters, and they were close, so why was she even worrying at all?

Lightning looked up at the murky roof of the tunnel, frustrated with the seemingly inevitable direction her thoughts had taken. Eden, she didn’t exactly have a _right_ to be jealous, either. Not when she’d chosen to forget that last night had even happened.

“The path split off, so we’ve decided to cover each path with separate groups,” Lightning told the group, keeping her voice clipped and strictly professional. She had to get a proper hold on herself, no matter that Fang was raising an eyebrow at the sudden change in her demeanour. “That way, we’ll be able to cover more ground.”

There was a range of slow nods as they digested the next plan of action. Except for Fang, who still had her eyebrow raised as her eyes skimmed over Lightning’s body. Lightning pushed away her irritation, forcing herself not to react to the obvious attention, not to look around quickly to see if any of the others had noticed the difference in the way Fang was treating her.

Fang had just received a blow to the head. Maybe she was a little concussed, or maybe not thinking about what she was doing –

The woman suddenly grinned, as if struck by a marvellous idea. The hair on the back of Lightning’s neck prickled in reaction, as if danger loomed around the corner. With a feral expression like that, it wasn’t an unfair assumption.

Fang’s voice sounded entirely too casual as she said, “If we’re splitting up, I vote we have a little… mix-up of parties. Keep things fresh.”

Whatever she’d thought Fang had been planning, it certainly hadn’t been something like that. Lightning watched Fang, her eyes narrowed. What game was Fang playing at now? Was she attempting to mix up the parties so that she’d have Vanille _and_ Lightning along with her, or was this about something else entirely?

Lightning rested her hand on her hip, realizing that the rest of the group had been looking at her, waiting for her response.

“Whatever,” Lightning said, shrugging and turning her back on the lot of them. She’d let Fang decide how to divide the squads, and then she’d see if she was right about the woman’s less-than-noble intentions. Maybe it would give her the chance to stop this whole relationship business, before it got too-badly out of hand.

She heard Fang clap her hands together. “Right. So I’ll take the bone-head and the old man, since those two _princesses_ can’t handle a little mob of Cryohedrons without me tanking it. Vanille, you can keep Hope.”

Lightning frowned, looking over her shoulder and meeting Fang’s eyes, as the other woman smiled wickedly.

“And you can take Farron, too.”

With that final order, Fang jerked her head towards Snow and Sazh, shouldering her lance and veering down the path that led right. Without turning, the woman raised a hand in farewell, and the trio faded into the blackness of the tunnel.

Lightning watched until she could no longer make out their forms, her eyes still narrowed thoughtfully.

However flippant Fang had sounded, this was not something she would have decided on lightly. Lightning looked back, to where Vanille was now standing with Hope. No, if there was one thing that that the woman took seriously, it was her duty in protecting Vanille. For Fang to leave Lightning, alone with Vanille, in charge of her safety…

It meant that Fang had a lot of faith in Lightning – or at least that she’d protect Vanille from any danger. She motioned for the other two l’Cie to move into the usual delta formation she required, and began to lead Hope and Vanille down the path that branched left.

Such faith weighed heavily on Lightning’s shoulders, and made her wonder why Fang was even willing to trust her like this. Last night, she’d all but admitted to resenting Vanille’s presence. Her brand itched, but she tried to ignore it.

It was a heavy responsibility, indeed.

###

Fang struck one last blow against her mechanical enemy, smirking with satisfaction as the aged Pulsework Centurion dissolved, leaving nothing but a heap of rusted old parts on the tunnel’s floor. She supposed that they weren’t all that terrible, for machines that had lacked maintenance for nigh on five hundred years, but these Centurions were just embarrassing to take down. Especially if _Sazh_ wasn’t having issues taking them down…

The weakness of these Centurions raised a good question, Fang noted as she blew a stray lock of hair away from her face, and straightened from her battle crouch. Why were only the small blighters of the Gran Pulse mechanized division left? She remembered that there’d been a few nastier ones, but she’d seen neither bolt nor circuit of them.

_Yeah, sure. Wish down unholy hell on your party, just so you can cut your eyeteeth on something more sporting than a few rust-bucket centurions._

Sighing, Fang sheathed her lance on her back, and turned back to her new comrades. It seemed that they’d just finished up work on double-teaming the last Centurion. Snow grinned, giving her a thumbs up and a slightly-winded whoop.

Fang crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her chin thoughtfully. With all the teamwork and success that Fang had to brag about, a pretty big part of her itched to grab the comm. link off Sazh, needle Lightning about it, and see how the other three were getting on over on the other side of the subterra.

Well… it was really Vanille and Lightning that Fang was so concerned about. Were they still sidling around each other, eyeing the other off like two feral lobos stuck in a pen, or were they actually taking this golden opportunity she’d given them? This petty jealousy business was getting old, and really, they’d have to be fools not to just sort it all out.

 _Then again, if there is one person I could count on to be prickly enough not to make nice with Vanille, it’d have to be Lightning bloody Farron._ Fang’s mood soured, as she failed to imagine Lightning just letting herself get along with Vanille. _Stubborn bitch at the best of times, no matter how much I like her._

There was really nothing for it, other than to hope Vanille had gotten the gist of Fang’s plan, and was acting accordingly.

Fang snapped back to attention and then twitched in surprise, noting that Snow and Sazh were waiting for her to give to word to move ahead again. A little frustrated, Fang motioned for them to relax.

“I don’t know how hard that soldier-girl rides you, but I think it’s time for a break.”

They weren’t going anywhere, not until she did a bit more sleuthing. She sidled up to Sazh as he knelt, digging around in his pack for some food. If she was going to be honest, letting Vanille and Lightning duke it out between themselves had only been half the reason why Fang had wanted to split the teams up.

Sazh, Vanille had told her on the first day back on Gran Pulse, was quite the knowledgeable guy. He’d known a lot about Cocoon and the conflict with Gran Pulse, even if that knowledge that been tainted by the desires of the Sanctum and twisted by the Cocoon fal’Cie. Fang had to scoff at some of the bizarre things she’d seen and heard, up on Cocoon. Gran Pulse as the political bogeyman, compared to that nest of traitorous vipers? Who’d have thought?

But if anyone could fill her in about the War of Transgression, even a version warped by time and the Sanctum, it was Sazh. Fang _had_ noticed that Vanille had been strategically keeping the kindly man away from her, and it had made Fang wonder why Vanille was so eager to do so. The girl was all but _running_ from their old Focus. Well, Vanille wasn’t here now, was she? Couldn’t redirect the conversation, or hurry Fang along.

Fang feigned casualness as she stretched her arms above her head, ignoring the strange look Sazh was giving her. She took her time, trying to formulate her questions. There was really no easy way to ask this sort of thing – _hey, mate, so what’s this Ragnarok business about, and why does it relate to me?_

It was best to go general, then. Fang couldn’t say she was raring to relive her memories of the War of Transgression, either. All that violence, all that death… There was a reason she preferred to live in the present, to focus on the now, rather than dwelling on the blood-soaked ghosts of her past. But Vanille had given Fang no other option, other than to uncover her missing memories herself.

“So,” Fang started, giving Sazh another side-long glance, as he straightened with one of those tasteless ration bars. “Since Barthandelus was being all creepy-cryptic up on the _Palamecia,_ I have a few questions. Before we move on, mind.”

Sazh just smiled, stroking the chocobo chick that nestled on his shoulder with a thumb. “Those questions being?”

Fang’s hand tightened reflexively into a fist.

 _Here goes,_ she told herself firmly. _Learn the truth, or let those around you suffer. I deserve to know my past, to fill this empty void inside me. Maybe hearing it will remind me of what happened. Maybe._

“I wanna know, what was the War of Transgression like, on your side of the fence? Tell it how you learned it. I won’t even jump down your throat if you happen to call Gran Pulse ‘evil’.”

Sazh leaned back, looking thoughtful as he chewed on his ration bar. What was there to think about? It was a generous offer, if Fang did say so herself, and from what Vanille had said, Sazh loved to talk and share that knowledge of his. This kind of question should have been right up the man’s alley.

Snow, on the other hand, had perked up when he’d heard Fang’s question.

“Wait. Five hundred years of crystal stasis, that means that you were around for the war back then. Shouldn’t you actually remember it?”

Fang shot him a look, all but daring him to open his trap again. He thought _Lightning’s_ brass knuckles hurt? She’d soon show him that a backhand from Oerba Yun Fang would break his bloody jaw. At her fierce glare, Snow wisely raised his hands in defeat and shut his mouth. This was a serious topic for her, and if Snow was going to be a blockhead and ruin it, then she was going to kick his arse all the way to the Sulyya Springs.

Etro, but even one more interruption from Snow, and she might lose her nerve and run away like a lobo with its tail between its legs.

“I remember it all _too_ well, Snow. I think you can understand that I had a first-hand experience of the War, but not of how it ended. Not…” she trailed off, and Sazh nodded in understanding.

“The end of the War of Transgression. You were probably already in crystal stasis by the time that rolled around.” Sazh crossed his arms over his chest, his eyes distant as he tried to formulate his response. “Man, it’s pretty cloaked in mysticism these days, if you look at Nautilus’ representation of it. All eidolon battles and unfathomably evil Pulse l’Cie…”

Fang snorted, but didn’t vocalize her ire. Vanille had told her all about the, while in the Ark. It was almost hysterical, how the past had been twisted into a parody of what had happened.

Sazh just laughed softly. “Well, I’m sure it’s a lot more complicated than that, but the story kinda goes like this. The way it’s told to us, Pulse is the one that launched the first attack on Cocoon, and then we retaliated. The stories often play it up as Pulse simply being evil, or maybe jealous of our lives.”

He looked at over at Fang, a little uncomfortable with discussing the topic in the presence of a Gran Pulse native. “I’m not sayin’ it had any truth to it, but that’s how it’s told to us.”

“History is always written down by the victors. That’s just the way it goes,” Fang agreed, keeping her voice deliberately mild and motioning for him to continue on. Fang could barely breathe, though, every fibre of her being focused on Sazh and the ‘history’ he was recounting. Everything that she remembered, everything that she didn’t remember could be riding on what Sazh was telling her. She could feel her pulse quickening, sweat trickling between her shoulder blades. She rolled her shoulders.

_Concentrate, damn you. Remember._

“Anyhow. The War was brutal, enough to instil fear into the people of Cocoon, even five hundred years after the fact. Machinery matched machinery, troops matched troops, and in the end it all boiled down to the l’Cie of both sides. Super soldiers, doing more damage alone than entire armies.”

Fang remembered that part. She’d always remembered that part. She’d never be able to forget the blood, the screams, shattering metal and sparking circuits as armies had clashed with invaders from the sky – but there was something different about hearing it from someone else. Something hypnotic and strange, a complete dissociation. It wasn’t her past. Etro, it was almost like Sazh was telling a story about heroes and feats of bravery –

She would have laughed at that, had she been sure she wouldn’t have roared instead. There hadn’t exactly been a lot of _heroes,_ or even honour, in the War of Transgression. Just a lot of fear, and clinging to life by the skin of her teeth.

Looking back, she remembered that she’d fought a lot, perhaps more than she’d needed to, just so that the Gran Pulsian generals wouldn’t send Vanille out to the front lines. She’d remembered thinking that if she couldn’t protect Vanille from the Focus and Anima’s wrath, then she’d protect Vanille from the horrors of the War and keep her sister safe.

Yes, that was right.

She’d fought so that Vanille wouldn’t have the shadows in her eyes, the shadows that spoke of pain and violence. It was a bitter realization, to know that those same shadows lingered in Vanille’s eyes now, in spite of all Fang had sacrificed. A failure on Fang’s part, then.

_Ragnarok._

It was the source of the anguish, the crystal-dulled echo of memories in Fang’s mind, Vanille’s deeper sadness - it always came back to that. Fang’s mind flickered on the cusp of blissful ignorance and eternal knowledge. But she was no coward, and she’d sought these answers since she’d awoken in Bodhum.

Sazh was still talking, though, still recounting a version of the War that seemed so familiar, and yet not.

“-like I said. The end-game was all l’Cie fighting l’Cie, as the last assault was mounted. Cocoon wouldn’t be able to repel another attack, and stories say, it was much the same for Pulse. How often does a war ever boil down to one last stand, for both sides, huh?”

Fang twitched, an old memory suddenly vivid and rough in her mind.

_“Yun, Dia, you don’t have a choice here! If we don’t strike those vipers down today, then there’s not going to be a tomorrow for us! Fill your goddamn Focus and wipe them out!”_

The voice was harsh – not a l’Cie, but a commanding officer. And she had struck at Cocoon. It had been part of her Focus. The Focus. What was it? Fang’s heart was pounding in her ears. Her eyes were open, fixed on the far wall of the tunnel, staring but not really seeing the darkened, ground-down rock. Her mind was far away, racing through half-formed memories that were springing up now, like desert flowers after the rain.

She was starting to get it.

“In those last hours of war, one of the Pulse l’Cie turned into a vicious beast using some treacherous Pulsian magic. Struck a huge blow against Cocoon, which is that giant rent you can see, even from down here. Our l’Cie, summoner of the Eidolon Ramuh, used the last of his strength to stop the beast, and ended up saving Cocoon.

“The War of Transgression ended with the Pulse l’Cie’s failure to destroy Cocoon. The conflict died, though there would be periodic surges. Looking back, and looking at what Pulse is like now… it was all publicity stunts by the Sanctum, designed to herd us like sheep to slaughter. There was no ongoing threat from Pulse. There wasn’t anyone left to fight, was there?”

Crystalized, for a Focus to destroy Cocoon. A Focus she’d never actually filled. That seemed important, but her mind seized on the reforming memories of striking out against Cocoon.

Power, overwhelming her. Vanille. Hatred. Despair. _Rage._

She remembered blood, death, and the feeling of circuits crushing under her claws as she’d slain the opponent Eidolon. And then… she felt her fingernails biting into her palm as she clenched her hand into a tight fist again. Then there had been light, and the whirlwind of hatred had vanished like it had never been there.

The War of Transgression had finished up with a bang – Fang could remember the massive backlash of destructive magic emanating back from her, even as her mind had been lulled into crystal stasis. Her last thoughts had been ones of failure. Everything around her had burned – and then she’d woken up with Vanille, inside Anima’s vestige, centuries afterwards. No memory. A Focus that she couldn’t recall. Nothing.

Sazh’s voice floated back into her awareness, breaking through her reverie for a moment.

“-sometime afterwards, bits of Pulse were used to repair Cocoon, which was how Anima’s Vestige got to Bodhum. Which kick-started this whole mess with the Purge…”

The words, Sazh’s recounting of the War of Transgression, didn’t matter anymore. Fang had no need of them, because the memories had returned, and now? She just wished they hadn’t. But it was far too late for regrets, now. Fang had pursued this, she’d chosen to find out what had happened all those years ago.

_No bloody kidding that ignorance is bliss, but… Vanille, why didn’t you tell me?_

Everything had come together. Fang been Ragnarok, all those years ago. She’d torn at Cocoon, and when she’d failed at her Focus, it had sent waves of destruction to rip humanity from Gran Pulse, too. All of the destruction she’d seen so far, the empty ruins, the ripped doors of the subterra, and the hollow watchtowers – it had all been her fault. Her Focus. Her doing, as nothing but a monster dandling on the whims of the fal’Cie.

The shadows in her sister’s eyes, the pain when she looked at Fang – all this time, Vanille had remembered everything.

_It had all been for Vanille, for exactly the same reason I’d fought so hard in the War. So she wouldn’t have to suffer summoning Ragnarok._

Fang could be wrong, though. She’d seen it before, all the time in the War. Battle-hardened soldiers falling prey to false memories of what had happened, interpreting situations as disastrously wrong. Ambiguity could kill a hunter – she had to take it easy, had to think logically. Calm. What would Lightning think, if she was running around like a headless chicken?

Fang shook her head. She couldn’t just jump to conclusions. She needed Vanille to confirm – or deny – the theory. To confirm that it really _had_ been Fang’s actions that had wiped out their world… But with how cagey her sister was being, it wasn’t going to be easy to get _anything_ out of Vanille.

She closed her eyes, motioning for the three of them to move out again. She had to keep moving, and the fighting would distract her from Ragnarok – for a while, at least. Fang just hoped that Vanille and Lightning were having a better trip through the subterra than she was.

###

“So, what exactly do you do, when you’re not a Pulse l’Cie?”

Lightning scowled across at Vanille, tightening her grip on the blazefire saber as she quickened her pace again. It was a half-hearted effort to get away from Vanille’s incessant interrogation, and the questions that had dogged her since they’d split up from Fang’s group. The girl had been clingy and attentive ever since that moment, and Lightning had had it up to _here_ with it.

“Why the sudden twenty questions?” Lightning asked, her voice rough, deliberately evading the latest of Vanille’s topics.

“Why are you avoiding them?” Vanille easily kept up Lightning’s pace, and she was all but dragging Hope along behind her, too.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t want to die,” Lightning ground out, her jaw tight and her scowl deepening. Vanille’s sudden and persistent over-interest in Lightning’s private life couldn’t have been a coincidence, not with the little discussion the two sisters had had before they’d left the Vallis Media.

_Bullshit you were going to keep it from Vanille. You couldn’t wait to spill your guts._

Careful to keep a tight leash on her growing anger, Lightning turned the next corner sharply. She crouched to avoid detection from the duo of rust puddings sliding about in the centre of the tunnel, darting quickly past them and motioning for the other two l’Cie to follow her lead.

“Don’t be silly, Lightning!” Vanille told her firmly, as she simply waltzed past the rust puddings. A muscle in Lightning’s jaw twitched. Did that girl have no concept of caution and care? No wonder Fang thought she had to dedicate every waking moment to keeping Vanille safe! Lightning’s tenuous grip on her temper wavered, as she buried her face in her free hand. This was getting ridiculous.

“We’re not going to die!” Vanille seemed to be oblivious to the soldier’s growing ire. She tilted her chin thoughtfully then, and tapped her cheek with a finger. “Not here, anyway.”

From his position at Lightning’s right hand, Hope just rolled his eyes. “That’s real reassuring, Vanille.”

Vanille turned around, walking backwards and pumping her fist in a very Snow-like fashion. “Of course it is! We have a Focus to beat, you know.”

It sounded like Vanille had swallowed Snow’s relentless rhetoric whole, with that idiotic optimism included. One Snow was more than enough for a lifetime, but at least this version of him didn’t have his sights on Serah – that she knew of.

“Beating the Focus doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be on guard,” Lightning told Vanille in a low voice, as she eased her way past the next group of Centurions. Then she narrowed her eyes. “You need to stop trying to distract me from my job.”

Just one wrong move, one moment of inattention, and Hope or Vanille could be mauled by some beast springing out from the darkness. Lightning cursed under her breath as she narrowly ducked a blind swing from another one of those rusted-out Centurions, keeping a steady eye on Vanille and Hope as they followed her.

It had been an unspoken promise to Fang, that Lightning would try to keep Vanille safe, and she… As reluctant as Lightning was about this whole relationship idea of Fang’s, she wasn’t eager to disappoint the huntress and get Vanille killed.

Even if beheading the Pulse-bred annoyance _herself_ seemed very, very attractive at present.

Vanille, meanwhile, was just pouting at Lightning’s abrupt dismissal. “Well, when _else_ am I going to get to know you, Light?”

Lightning snorted in derision, fixing her eyes on the next set of enemies they’d have to find their way past. “Why do you need to get to know me?”

“Reasons,” Vanille announced airily, as she spun around to face forwards again. The redheaded thorn in Lightning’s side smiled and laced her fingers behind her back, causing Lightning to scowl again. If Vanille had been less insufferably adorable, then perhaps she wouldn’t have been so jealous of the girl’s closeness with Fang. So, in a way, she could blame Vanille for her current state of emotional turmoil.

 _And Fang, who would have to be the root of everything irritating and sadistic._ Lightning thought, a little viciously, as she tightened her grip on her blazefire saber. She was going to thrash Fang for putting her through this. Lightning still wasn’t sure why Fang had gone and split up her carefully planned groups, either.

“You’re as bad as your sister,” Lightning growled, itching to knock some sense into her inattentive charge.

“Oh, but you like _her,”_ Vanille told the soldier, her side-long glance becoming sly as she looked Lightning up and down. “Even if you don’t like to show it.”

Lightning froze in mid-stride, openly staring at Vanille’s brazen threat. Her mind scrambled to work, to try to convince herself that her worst nightmare had not just occurred. Vanille had not just blurted, in front of Hope, no less.

Lightning felt her alarm spike in her stomach as she slowly – haltingly – glanced over to Hope, just for an instant. The boy looked entirely too innocent, his eyes fixed on something in the distance, as if he were not trying to listen to the conversation between the soldier and the redheaded annoyance. Lightning’s eyes narrowed. That meant that he was hanging on to every word and filing them away for memory.

She looked back to Vanille, her teeth clenched so hard that her jaw ached. So it was going to be like that, was it? If Lightning didn’t play nice with Vanille, the girl would tell everybody about what had happened with Fang last night.

_Cunning little bitch._

She cursed silently, mentally kicking herself for her mistake. Underestimating Vanille’s grit, intelligence and determination had been a bad move, but a small part of her was vaguely impressed with how well Vanille had played those cards.

Lightning exhaled sharply, catching Vanille’s eye and nodding. “Fine, let’s play this little game of yours.”

Vanille smiled brightly at Lightning’s admission of defeat. “I just knew you’d see things my way!”

Lightning was silent for a few moments, her mind working, just trying to find a way to start talking. It was more difficult than she’d expected, especially when it was being enforced by a redheaded tyrant. Socialization, conversation – back before this whole l’Cie thing, it had meant little to her. Just means to an end, something she’d never had time for. Not even when it was her own sister.

While she was willing to mentor Hope, tolerate Snow, this was different. This wasn’t someone close, like Serah, or Fang – it was Vanille, someone she’d resented for a good week, all through the _Palamecia,_ and all through the Ark. Lightning took a steadying breath, meeting Vanille’s wide, green eyes. She was not going to back down from this. She was no coward, no matter how weak she’d been over the past two days.

“When I’m not being hunted down as a fugitive, I…” Lightning paused, shaking her head. Considering the situation, answering such mundane questions seemed ridiculous. “I work for the army, I look after Serah by cooking and cleaning the house, and I train. There’s not a lot to talk about.”

“Huh, _you_ can cook?” Vanille seemed a little surprised, frowning slightly and looking at the soldier again, as if reassessing Lightning’s usefulness. Lightning shrugged off Vanille’s scrutiny, turning her attention back to the monsters lingering in the darkness before them. A pair of Centurions. She kept a steady eye on them.

“Serah tends to burn things.” Lightning was careful to use the present tense, because Serah was coming back. She had to get herself to believe in that, even if the rest of her life had been one lie after another. She heard Vanille approach slowly, the crunch of grit under boots sounding raw against already-ragged nerves.

“It’s much the same with Fang. Doesn’t have the attention for cooking, unless she’s about to die of starvation. Burns the lot, and I spend the evening removing charcoal from pots and pans, wishing I could hit her with one.”

Lightning snorted, as she recalled the meat skewers that Fang had attempted to prepare the night before. The first batch had burned because of Fang’s distraction, and the second had been tough, over-done and close to charcoal. Fang couldn’t cook? Lightning was entirely convinced of that claim.

“Agreed,” Lightning said in a low voice, nodding. Hope, however, was looking perplexed at Lightning’s uncharacteristic agreeableness. She supposed it must have been a little surprising – it had taken her a few days to warm up to his presence. Now, it looked as if she’d taken to gossiping with someone that she’d been distant from since the beginning.

“Uh, Light?” Hope asked finally, his voice a little hesitant. “I’m going to go back the way we came. I think I saw something that could be useful. Wait here?”

Lightning nodded, resting her hand against her hip. “Of course, Hope. Keep in contact by radio, and don’t forget to stay vigilant.”

Normally, she would have gone back with him, to supervise and be certain that he remained safe – but there was something about Vanille’s all-too innocent expression that warned Lightning that she wasn’t going to escape from the interrogation so easily. Lightning watched Hope’s retreating back, until she could no longer make out the colour of his bright silver hair in the darkness.

“Now, I guess we can talk a little more freely. He’s a good kid, isn’t he?” Vanille said, her smile a little more relaxed, now they were alone.

“Better than most,” Lightning replied, mildly amused at the direction the ‘feared’ Pulsian interrogator had taken the conversation – it was a fair move to pick up on Lightning’s pride with Hope’s progress. It certainly made this whole idea of Vanille’s seem less confrontational and threatening.

“But… Lightning, I know what you do now. But what about the future?” Vanille’s expression became a little wistful. “Or are you just going to look after Serah forever?”

Lightning was about to reassure Vanille that she’d always be there to look after Serah – and then paused. That was exactly the problem, wasn’t it? When they got Serah and Dajh back – that was _when,_ not _if_ – what then? She’d be back to square one. Last night, Lightning had confessed one of the big problems to Fang – she’d played such a protective role that she hardly knew her sister anymore.

Not only that, but there was Snow in the picture, and _that_ was an issue that was not going to go away. Serah would go on to marry Snow, and where would that leave Lightning?

“…no. I suppose not,” Lightning said, softly. “I guess I don’t really know what I’m going to do without her. I’ve been so focused on the past, on being strong enough to protect Serah.”

Vanille sighed, as if she’d heard all of Lightning’s defences before.

“I haven’t really stopped to consider what I want.” Even though she loved her sister, would do _anything_ for Serah’s sake, there was always going to be those seeds of regret, the memories of opportunities that she’d never taken, all because she’d been so completely consumed by this persona, _Lightning._ There was so much she hasn’t done yet because of the pursuit of perfect strength, lingering on the past and building a fantasy future, rather than creating a now that she could enjoy.

“You two are so alike.” Vanille’s smile seemed a little strained, now. “It’s like talking to a Cocoon version of Fang. But there’s one thing the _both_ of you need to learn. It’s how to live your _own_ lives, instead of living for others.”

Lightning felt a spike of anger, and she turned her back on Fang’s sister abruptly.

“So. How much did that woman tell you?” Lightning’s voice was cold, unyielding, and controlled. Vanille didn’t understand how it was, to have given your life for the sake of someone else. To have promised to protect them, to shield them from the worst of the world. Fang did… but Vanille, she was on the other side of it all, the one Fang had sworn to protect. Vanille was Fang’s entire world. She’d never understand.

“I guessed,” Vanille replied, gently. “I took one look at the way she was staring at you this morning… and I just knew, you know? She was actually _happy._ Fang’s never been able to hide that kind of thing from me.”

“The two of you are pretty thick, huh?” Lightning studied the play of dim light over the worn-down rock face of the tunnel, listening to the grind of machinery in the distance. It was far easier to be impersonal and detached, to ignore the raging jealousy inside her that Vanille had inadvertently sparked. Fantastic. It was a reminder of exactly what Lightning would have to compete against for Fang’s attention, her affection.

_Vanille’s my best friend, my sister and my soul mate. I love her unreservedly, and I would burn the entire world for her sake._

It was far too complicated, and not nearly worth the effort. Lightning knew that. And that was exactly why things would never progress between them, no matter what feelings Lightning had for the huntress.

Vanille reached out for Lightning’s shoulder. “Lightning, we’ve got to get to know each other. It’s what Fang wants.”

Lightning jerked away, unable to swallow her anger any longer. Not over this presumed relationship. Not over this murky business between Fang and Vanille, a connection that was nearly impossible to navigate for an outsider like her. She was sick of the bullshit, and it was time to end it.

“Fang?” Lightning asked harshly. “Fang doesn’t _get it._ She doesn’t realize that – I can’t do this. Not now. Maybe not _ever.”_

There was a moment of sudden, shocked silence. Perhaps Lightning’s own desires were finally being heard, she thought harshly, instead of being trampled over by Fang or the Sanctum or Barthandelus. She heard Vanille’s footsteps echoing through the tunnels. The concerned look on the girl’s face was sickening, but it was enough to ground her anger, enough to let Lightning seize control of her wayward emotions.

“Are you having second thoughts?” Vanille asked.

“I always have second thoughts. That’s always been the problem.” Bitterness rose in her throat, choking her. Eden, to be telling this kind of shameful thing to _Vanille,_ of all people, and blatantly admitting such disturbing weakness in her resolve – had she sunk so low?

“Well…” Vanille trailed off, her hand squeezing Lightning’s shoulder gently. “Fang seems pretty sure about you.”

“I bet she’s sure about everyone she wants to sleep with.” Lightning’s temper spiked again, and she slammed her fist into the rock wall, hard enough to feel the impact jar her wrist. She rubbed the joint, but felt no better from her violent outburst. That was unusual.

“I know I’ve said this before, Lightning, but you two really _are_ a lot alike. More than either of you seem to get.” Vanille tutted to herself and took Lightning’s hand in a no-nonsense fashion, a quick cure easing away the pain in her wrist. “Not just with the whole sister complex thing you’ve got going on, but… it goes deeper.”

Lightning made a harsh sound in her throat. “Enlighten me.”

“Back before, I guess Fang never really _liked_ people. She cared about her hunting and her family. Sure, she was social, and a flirt, but it was always… meaningless, you know? There wasn’t anything behind it. She would be all bravado and boasts, but I could tell that she was all frozen inside. She always kept people firmly on the outside – and she was real good at it, except with me. When the war came around, it only got worse.”

Lightning didn’t answer, her mind working as she silently weighed Vanille’s words. She and Fang weren’t the same, not by a long shot, but… she supposed that, if Vanille was being truthful, then she and Fang were similar in more than just their vow to protect those that were dear to them. Lightning looked back on her past and she could see the empty bonds of half-hearted friendships, and a solitary and relentless drive to do all she could to protect Serah. Was that was Fang saw, too?

But Vanille was continuing, and Lightning’s whole attention was on her now.

“I don’t know what you did, but back in Palumpolum, something changed for her. I wasn’t there, but you did _something.”_

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Lightning told Vanille tightly. At least, she hadn’t done anything consciously. All she’d done was let Fang talk her around, give her hope about ever seeing Serah again… It was nothing out of the ordinary.

_Except that Fang had managed to get under my guard back there. ‘Nothing out of the ordinary’, yet you let a total stranger in. Both of us were just desperate and stupid._

Lightning sighed as she insisted again, “I didn’t do anything at all.”

“But you must have, because now she thinks you – and the rest of our group – are _family._ And she’s right.” Vanille took a shaky breath. “You’re part of our family. So if you’re having second thoughts, don’t go and hurt her. Be gentle. She’s already been through so much.”

“The War of Transgression.” It was something that Fang conspicuously never talked about, aside from a few vague references when she was pushed. A part of history cloaked in lies, a war between the worlds.

Vanille’s eyes were distant, as if remembering the violence that she’d seen in those times. “Among other things.”

Lightning didn’t press for more, unwilling to force the girl to reflect on memories that were so obviously painful for her. But if there was one thing this little talk with Vanille had brought to light, it was that Vanille was just as much a part of Fang, as one of her arms. If Lightning ever decided to renew her… relationship with Fang, once she’d had time to think after they defeated their Focus, it would be a thorny problem that she’d have to deal with.

Lightning let out a long breath, as Vanille smiled at her again. She’d always be second to Vanille. It bothered her.

_It shouldn’t. Wouldn’t I put Serah above any other?_

But now, Vanille was almost _begging_ Lightning not to hurt Fang, to not end this disastrous relationship. Just this morning, she’d thought that Fang wasn’t taking this whole thing seriously enough to get hurt, not with the way she’d been so joking and casual about what had happened. But with the sudden trust Fang had placed in her, and now Vanille’s words…

She didn’t know, anymore. Eden, now it felt like she was second-guessing her instincts at every turn. _That_ was exactly what Fang had caused. Fang, and Lightning’s cursed attraction to her. Better to wash her hands of it. Hesitation and second-guessing herself would get her killed. That was all there was to it.

The radio on Lightning’s wrist crackled to life. She frowned. Had Hope gotten lost back there?

_“Uh, Light?! I think I’ve woke something that I wasn’t – oh Eden, that thing is huge!”_

Lightning went cold. She was moving in a heartbeat, the tunnel a blur around her as she raced in the direction that Hope had vanished. She’d let this happen, stupidly letting her emotions take precedence over the safety of her allies. She’d been having a heart-to-heart with Vanille, while Hope had been in danger this whole time. The failure burned, and it spurred Lightning to sprint even faster.

She could hear the sound of fierce battle and roaring motors, long before Hope’s thin form came into view. Her heart pounding in her ears and her breath burning in her lungs, Lightning skidded to a halt, staring out into the machinery-filled cavern. Hope was fighting – and losing to – what looked like a massive tank, with flamethrowers and chainsaws and _cannons_ all over it.

Her eyes followed her wayward charge desperately – Hope dodged another volley of shots from the mechanical monster, coughing and barely rolling to his feet before he was forced to flee from flames that roared out to consume him.

Vanille slid to a stop next to Lightning, her eyes wide with horror. “Oh no no _no,_ this is bad!”

Ice still gripped Lightning’s insides, and she barely heard herself demand, “How bad is ‘bad’?”

 _“Really_ bad. That’s a juggernaut!” Vanille squeaked, drawing her rod from the pouch at her waist. “It’s an anti-Eidolon war-machine!”

“Right.” Lightning closed her eyes, steeling herself for what was promising to be one hell of a fight, and leaping forwards to engage the monstrous machine.


	5. Maw of the Abyss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lightning fights to protect Vanille and Hope, even if her doubts over Fang are beginning to grow stronger in her mind. This can only end in pain. That’s what she tells herself.

“Big guy.” Snow actually sounded impressed with the creature, as the spherical fal’Cie rolled on past their vantage point.

Sazh shrugged, stroking his moustache thoughtfully. “S’pose you could say that. Reckon it’s compensating for somethin’?”

Fang was hardly in the mood for the usual playful banter, no matter that Snow and Sazh were two of the more light-hearted members of the group, and she simply sighed. “That the fal’Cie Atomos. It must have been digging the subterra out, all these years.”

Snow pounded his fist into his open palm, looking even more impressed with the fal’Cie now. “That a good thing?”

Fang shrugged, listening to the rumble of metal grinding down rock in the distance. “At the very least, the paths through the mountains are going to be clear. But after so many years…” She shook her head, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “The tunnels would probably go on forever. There could be a thousand different paths through this place, and only a small percentage of them could lead to Oerba. We might be down here forever.”

She felt weary and flat, as she stared down at the tunnel that Atomos had been carving. Since Sazh’s recounting of the War of Transgression, she’d been feeling heavy. Down. She always hated thinking back on that war, for just this reason. The memories made her itch to move, made her restless and paranoid and wondering where Vanille was, why Lightning hadn’t been in contact yet. In her opinion, that War had shown too much blood for a person to see, without them going a little mad.

And that had been without the shadow of Ragnarok breathing down the back of her neck, telling her that the War had been _so much worse_ than she’d even recalled, that everything had been her fault in the end.

Fang stopped herself. She was not going to even consider the implications of having been Ragnarok, not until she had a good, long chat with Vanille. But it was so hard to keep pushing the thoughts away – every time she looked at the ruined, deserted tunnels, she knew that it might have been her fault that they were empty. Etro, but she didn’t know if she’d scream, cry or go on a killer rampage.

She let out a slow breath, wishing that deep-seated feeling of mistrust would leave her alone already.

_Yeah, ‘not considering the implications’. Yeah freakin’ right._

Snow, in the meantime, had gotten one of those damnable looks about him. One that was fierce, excited and deeply troubling, all rolled up into one. She had to wonder, how Lightning had kept him in order day in, day out. But what was that bonehead planning now?

“How ‘bout we fast-track our quest, then? Put a little speed in it, you know what I’m saying?” Snow was grinning as he gestured to the deep, carved out tunnel that sprawled before them.

Sazh raised an eyebrow. It seemed he’d learned to be wary of that look of Snow’s, too. “You can’t be meanin’ what I think you’re meanin’.”

“We hitch a ride on this thing!” Snow exclaimed, slapping Sazh on the shoulder as he knelt to take a closer look at Atomos’ path. “Don’t you wuss out on me, man.”

The ground seemed to rumble around them, though by now, Atomos should have been leagues away. Fang looked over her shoulder sharply, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the dimly-lit cavern. Had it been just her, or had she heard something accompanying the rumble? She shifted her shoulders uncomfortably, but couldn’t shake the feeling of wrongness that had settled over her. The ambient sounds in the subterra felt… different. But was it just her paranoia, or had something changed?

“Did anyone else hear that?” Sazh asked softly, and the way his fingers strayed to his dual guns betrayed his apprehension. So. Sazh had felt the change too. Fang straightened, every one of her senses desperate to pick out _what_ was so different.

Snow cocked his head, looking confused. “Hear what?”

Fang pressed a finger to her lips, warning him to be silent.

“It sounded like…” she trailed off, still straining. The noise was coming from far away. _Really_ far away. She closed her eyes then – it was the sound of old machinery moving, grinding into life after years of rust. But it was more than that – it was familiar in a way that she loathed.

She remembered fighting Cocoon on the surface of Gran Pulse, in the ruins of the Steppe’s old city. Cocoon had gotten themselves a bunch of new sucker l’Cie, and a number of them had been cursed with Eidolons. Gran Pulse had deployed Fang, a number of other l’Cie, a whole battalion of soldiers, and a few anti-Eidolon war machines. She and the soldiers had had to pull out when Cocoon had started whopping them too badly, and the brass had pulled out the big cards.

She still remembered the screams and blood and smoke as the juggernauts had crushed and burned all in their path-

Fang’s eyes snapped open, her entire body freezing with horror.

“That sounded like a juggernaut!” she spat, pivoting sharply and running back the way they’d come, back towards where she’d last seen Vanille. Lightning. Hope.

She could hear herself continue to talk as Sazh and Snow struggled to keep pace with her, her words a disjointed ramble. “I thought there weren’t any left, there’s been nobody to do maintenance on them for centuries, I’d never have let them otherwise, why the hell would they even go _near_ one of those…”

No matter what her useless excuses, they were in danger, and it had been all Fang’s fault that she wasn’t there to stop it.

_Etro, I should never have left them alone._

Even if Fang had burned her home with the powers of Ragnarok, she would still protect Vanille, _and_ Lightning. She cursed silently. What the hell had Lightning been doing, engaging a bloody _juggernaut?_ But there was one thing that Fang was certain of, as she sprinted through the dark tunnels – Lightning wouldn’t let Vanille get hurt, not while the soldier still drew breath. It was a grim consolation.  


###

“Vanille, debuffs. Find a way to slow this creature down!” Lightning’s voice was sharp as she hauled Hope back onto his feet. The boy looked up in surprise and relief, her sudden presence in his fight galvanizing him. She gave him an encouraging smile that she couldn’t feel.

“Hope, we need buffs. All the edges you can give us!” Lightning eyed off the war machine, as it shuddered to life again before them, a red optic lens focusing on the small group of l’Cie for a moment. The more analytical side of Lightning noted that the machine – the juggernaut – was huge. No matter what advantages magic could give them, l’Cie would be hard-matched to win against something designed specifically to fight them. There was only one option, then.

“We gotta buy ourselves enough time to break through and get away from this thing,” she told them, keeping her voice level and calm, in spite of the cold grip of fear on her heart.

Hope, still out of breath and pale from his solo round with the juggernaut, nodded sharply. “Right!”

Vanille began to work her careful magic with defuffs, designed to clog the machine’s circuits and disable the optic lenses. Satisfied, Lightning whirled at the sound of rust-worn gears grinding, and barely had enough time to hurl herself off to one side as a cannonball ploughed into the floor, where she’d been just moments ago. She rolled to her feet just in time to dodge another haymaker from the juggernaut, but with a curse she realized that she’d badly mistimed it. The blow was just glancing, but even so, the force and momentum of the machine’s swing smashed her into the wall.

Blinking back stars from her eyes, Lightning watched as Hope and Vanille ducked another wild swing from the machine. If it hit either Hope or Vanille, it would be lights out – there’d be no coming back from a hit like that. Even with l’Cie magic, it would difficult to heal a caved-in ribcage, especially in the middle of a fight like this.

 _Got to draw its attention,_ Lightning realized with a silent groan, and pushed herself to her feet. She didn’t hesitate as she charged back into the fight, ducking a stab, a reverse hit, an uppercut from the juggernaut’s bladed forearms, before slamming her blade into one of the shoulder joints. Her blade skittered harmlessly off the aged metal, and she swore. She felt the juggernaut lurch beneath her, smashing itself against the wall in an attempt to dislodge its foe.

 _Tch. No use._ Lightning darted away before the juggernaut could crush her against the wall again, her mind working. This thing was tough, no two-ways about it. But there had to be a weakness, somewhere. Out of the corner of her eye, she spied Vanille, whose face was caught in intense concentration as she attempted to work her unique brand of status magic on the machine. If they couldn’t weaken the thing soon, then…

Lightning had hesitated too long – flames roared out from some unknown compartment on the juggernaut’s arms. Lightning dodged desperately, her heart in her throat as she realized that it wasn’t going to be enough. Flames scorched her body, and Lightning dully realized that all the damaging heat had been sucked away, leaving only a warm wind stirring her hair.

Eden, she’d been so focused on drawing the juggernaut away from her two allies, that she hadn’t even noticed Hope’s last-moment Shell spell.

There was no time to stop – Lightning launched herself at the juggernaut again, whirling in and out of range in rapid succession, ever fibre of her body focused on drawing the machine away from Hope and Vanille, to open a path so that at the very least, they’d have the option of running away. It was still too much of a risk to turn their backs on this thing, not when it had a cannon and a flamethrower with which to chase them down.

Hope alternated between keeping the buffs strong, shooting off rapid-fire magic and Thundaga spells that made the earth shake and the hair on the back of Lightning’s neck to stir from the static. The kid was getting strong, now.

 _What’s that?_ Lightning’s eye caught on a tiny compartment on the back of the juggernaut as she whirled out of the machine’s range again. Her breath came hard as she desperately launched herself into the air, watching with relief as the juggernaut’s massive limb slammed into the iron plating and _not_ her body. _That couldn’t have been a control panel, could it?_

A plan slowly formulating in her head, Lightning landed heavily, a few feet away from the juggernaut. Bullets wouldn’t do the trick, but maybe a blade shoved in that compartment could stop this thing’s rampage. Her pulse pounded in her ears, sweat trickling down her forehead. She was tiring, and she couldn’t let this fight drag on. Soon, her luck would run out, her body would slow just a fraction and that thing would catch her. It would kill her, and then it would start on Hope and Vanille.

_Unacceptable._

Fang had been counting on her to protect them. No matter what Lightning’s differences were with Vanille, it didn’t change the fact that here, right now, Lightning would do everything she could to make sure that Fang’s faith hadn’t been misplaced, that Fang and Vanille would see each other again.

Even if, ultimately, she knew that she would always be second place to Vanille.

Lightning’s eyes narrowed, and she straightened. She extended her blade as she sized the juggernaut up again, waiting for that opening she needed so badly. The machine paused, gears working, that soulless red lens drilling into her.

 _I have half a second after the cannon fires,_ Lightning noted as she stared the juggernaut down, nearly daring it to open fire at her. _That’s all I’ve got to work with._

The tense seconds stretched, and suddenly the machine pivoted. Lightning jerked, her eyes darting over her shoulder. Vanille was there, not twenty feet away. Vanille, her face still intent as she tried to cast some ancient form of detrimental magic. Why the hell wasn’t she moving?

 _Damnit,_ Lightning thought savagely. _She’s trying to cast Death on the thing. But she’s not going to have enough time. That thing’s going to fire, and she’s right in the way._

“Vanille!” Lightning cried out as the cannon exploded – Vanille looked up, and then threw herself to the side, just in time to dodge the incredible impact of the cannonball with the iron-plated floor. Lightning smirked slightly at that, turning back to the juggernaut and intent on taking her chance –

She felt the Protect barrier shatter around her, as the juggernaut’s flame-wreathed haymaker hit her with maximum force.

White pain exploded in her chest and in the back of her head, and suddenly she was looking up at the juggernaut from the floor. She lay a good twenty feet away from where she’d been and crumpled up against the cavern’s wall. Stars danced in front of her eyes, and she tried to blink away the creeping blackness at the edges of her vision.

_Stupid, rookie move. I was too concerned with Vanille, didn’t stop to consider what the juggernaut would do next. How the hell can that thing move so fast?_

Her vision swam sickeningly, and she tried to push herself to get up and rejoin the fight. Pain stabbed through her ribs, through the back of her head. Lightning groaned, the blackness growing in her eyes. She was out of this fight, and it left Vanille and Hope to take on the war machine all alone.

As conscious thought fled, she noted that she hadn’t even been able to help Vanille and Hope when it counted.

…

Lightning’s body had impacted against the iron wall at a terrifying speed, and Vanille watched in horror as the woman twitched – and then didn’t move at all. Vanille went cold. It was far too similar to everything she’d seen in the War of Transgression, too similar to everything she’d spent so long running from. It made her insides scream, and made her mind blank in horror.

“Light! Are you okay? Lightning!” Her voice rang out, echoing against the walls of the tunnel they’d been boxed into, and inevitably drawing the attention of the mechanical beast.

The only thing that stopped Vanille from rushing to Lightning’s side with a high-powered curaga was the knowledge that the juggernaut’s chilling, red optics lens was now fixed on her and Hope – one wrong move, one moment of inattention as she sent a cure over to the woman, and she’d be just like Lightning. Back before, she’d seen a lot of l’Cie lose out to war machines like this, even if this one was as badly maintained as an Oerban train line.

Hope’s breath was coming hard as he seized Vanille’s shoulder, as if he were afraid that she would make a break for Lightning. He didn’t understand how much of a coward she really was, then, Vanille noted with a hint of self-reproach.

“We’re gonna have to do this alone.” His voice was low, but there was an undercurrent in his voice that spoke of bubbling hysteria. “She’s out cold and we _don’t_ have the time to stop and heal!”

Vanille didn’t take her eyes off the juggernaut, as it lashed out towards them again, with those terrifying, flame-wreathed limbs.

“What are we gonna do, then?” she demanded as she jumped back, just avoiding the mechanized arm that the juggernaut had slammed into the ground before her. She sent a flurry of useless ice magic in retaliation, anything to distract it for a moment.

Hope looked grim and pale, and she saw his eyes dart towards Lightning again. “We might have to just run.”

Vanille stared at him, aghast.

“We can’t just leave her!” she squeaked, and she scrambled back from another of the juggernaut’s deadly, sweeping blows. “That thing will kill her, if it hasn’t already!”

“I’m not saying that!” Hope hissed at her, never taking his green eyes off the juggernaut, as he continued to slowly back away. Pretty soon, they’d hit the far end of this room, and there’d be no room _left_ to back away to.

“But – but if it comes down to it… that’s what Light would want.” He nodded to himself, then. “Light would want to live, but she wouldn’t want to take us down with her.”

Hope’s expression was bleak, as if he wasn’t convinced that they could manage even _that_ small victory. Suddenly, those green eyes of his lit up. An idea? Vanille dared to be hopeful. Hope raised his wrist to his mouth quickly, activating the comm. link to the other group.

His voice was shaky as he roared into the microphone, “Beta, are you there?!”

The radio crackled with static, but was otherwise silent. There was no response, no Snow to swear that he’d rescue them, no Sazh to tell her that it was alright, no Fang to give her advice on how to survive a little bit longer. She and Hope were alone down here, Vanille realized with a sinking heart.

The next few moments of Vanille’s consciousness was a blur – just constant dodging of belching flames, haymakers that could knock her head clean from her shoulders, cannons that threatened to cave in her rib cage if she mistimed her evasions even a little. There was barely enough time to think, let alone cast a few stray cures, to heal Lightning enough to get back into the fray, to even the odds a little.

All she could think of, was how badly Fang was going to freak when she’d learned what had happened. Guilt made Vanille’s stomach sink, as if she’d swallowed a tonne of lead. Fang would _never, ever_ forgive her, if she just left Lightning to die here. Yes, Lightning was harsh and really didn’t seem to like her no matter _what_ she tried, but that didn’t mean she deserved to die! And Etro, what would it do to _Fang?_ Fang would grow colder again, even though Vanille knew she’d keep on pretending that nothing hurt her. She’d grow isolated, hateful, and plain-old _obsessed_ with that awful Focus again. Fang would hurt, and because of that, so would Vanille.

She didn’t know how it had happened, but Fang really liked Lightning. Vanille hadn’t even been sure her sister was capable of romantic love anymore. Not after the War, not after the Focus and Ragnarok, but something had changed. The thought galvanised her. No, she couldn’t – wouldn’t – let Fang’s feelings go to waste like this.

Cold metal hit her back, and suddenly Vanille knew that they were out of time and options. Nowhere to run, and nothing they were doing to the juggernaut was hurting it. Vanille took a shuddering breath, grabbing Hope’s hand in a vice-like grip. Hope’s face was fixed in a defiant scowl, his expression mirroring what Lightning’s would have been. Even so, his fingers squeezed back.

A feral roar shattered Vanille’s hopelessness, and there was the sound of metal being shorn, circuits sparking, and the thunder of the juggernaut’s heavy steps as it was driven back. Vanille’s eyes snapped open, just in time to see Fang land before her in a crouch.

Etro, Vanille had _never_ been so glad to see Fang, not even on the _Palamecia!_ Her sister’s face looked thunderous, though, and Vanille didn’t need any other hints to scramble out of the way, to let Fang deal with this new mess she’d made of the fight. Snow skidded to a halt next to the angry woman, and she saw Sazh wave to her as he also took aim at the juggernaut.

 _Not just Fang,_ Vanille realized. _The rest of the family, too._

As the reinforcements moved to beat the juggernaut to a molten slag of metal, Vanille sprinted after Hope as he ducked past the mechanized beast’s lunge, to reach Lightning’s side. The light of her cure spell was already condensed in the palm of her hand long before she’d reached Lightning’s side, and she released a quick flurry of magic as she knelt beside Hope. The boy’s eyebrows were knit as he ran his diagnostics spell.

“Broken ribs, hit her head pretty bad in the impact,” Hope mumbled as he completed his libra, his green eyes intense on the soldier’s face as he rested his hand against her ribcage. Skin-to-skin contact helped the potency of the spell – it meant that he was taking no chances this time. Vanille let Hope’s high-strength curaga work on Lightning’s ribs, before she followed suit and took the unconscious soldier’s head in her palms. Cooling light flowed from her fingers, and she saw the pained expression on Lightning’s face ease.

Lightning took a laboured gulp of air, her blue eyes fluttering open, and almost immediately tried to rise to rejoin the fight. Hope merely pushed her back to the ground, and the soldier must have been weaker than Vanille had guessed, because it worked.

“Fang!” Lightning called out, before wincing and resting her hand against her ribs. “There’s an exposed control panel on that thing’s back!”

“I’ll be handling it from here!” Fang roared back, pivoting and lashing forwards with her bladed lance to take out the juggernaut’s optic lens. Vanille winced as she cast another cure spell – no matter how dangerous the opponent was, it looked like Fang now had a grudge to settle. The juggernaut’s death would not be an easy one.

Snow, however, had wheeled around at Lightning’s advice, and had spied the control panel at the back of the juggernaut. And while the war machine was busy taking on a Gran Pulse l’Cie that already knew all of its usual tricks, Snow ripped open the partially-exposed control panel and smashed his fist into the circuitry.

The juggernaut froze, and finally shuddered to a halt.

The cavern was strangely silent then, and the only sounds were those of gasping breath and sparking electricity. There was the thundering of rapid footsteps on rusted metal, followed by a dull _thunk._ Snow rubbed the back of his head, frowning down at Fang, as the woman lowered her fist.

“I totally had dibs on taking this bastard down,” Vanille’s sister told Snow, looking very, very serious – and then began to laugh. It was a laugh that seemed one part relief, one part paranoia, one part exhilaration. Vanille smiled, as she helped Lightning to her feet. So maybe Fang wasn’t going to be all that mad, after all.

Snow just spread his hands and grinned. “Quick and the dead, Fang. Maybe you’ll get your shot next time?”

…

In the wake of the battle with that damnable juggernaut, Fang had lingered at the back of the group, with Vanille and Lightning. Snow had dragged Sazh and Hope on ahead, probably to explain his hare-brained scheme with Atomos, and get some input on _how_ he was going to stop something that was virtually unstoppable. Sazh’s expression was resigned, while Hope was looking a little harassed by Snow’s over-enthusiasm, by the time the three of them vanished into the dark tunnels ahead.

Fang had expected Vanille to hang back with her and continue to make excuses to what had happened, but her sister had just smiled, nodded towards Lightning, and skipped ahead to join the others. Fang watched her sister disappear into the darkness, and she smiled slightly.

_Huh. Maybe those two **did** manage to patch things up, after all. _

That smile faded as Fang reluctantly considered her own problems. Juggernauts and the subterra aside, sometime today, Fang would have to confront Vanille about that whole Ragnarok business. She’d have to learn the truth, and why her sister had lied to her for so long. It was a terrifying prospect, though Fang was loath to admit it.

A part of her wanted to confess her worry to Lightning, just like Lightning had shared those issues of hers last night. That had been a little therapeutic, right? But Etro, if she was remembering right, then would these Cocoon folk even consent to her being around? She’d scarred their world, had been the demon in all their little stories for _centuries._ She was exactly what Cocoon had feared all these years! That wasn’t something that you could just dismiss out of hand.

Even so, it hardly mattered. That was what she kept telling herself. No matter how things went down with the rest of the l’Cie, Fang knew that she’d always stay with Vanille. That had been the way it had always been. Her and Vanille, against the world, against the fal’Cie of Cocoon. Who cared if it went back to that?

But honestly? She knew that things had changed now. Friendships and bonds had been forged through this nightmare, and she wouldn’t be able to forget them so easily.

Fang looked over to Lightning. Walking stiffly and slowly, Lightning still looked a little sore from her run-in with the juggernaut, not that Fang could really blame her. She remembered the look on Hope’s face, as he and Vanille had helped Lightning to her feet – Lightning was lucky to have survived that battle at all. She had to admit, while she did admire that stubborn and daring streak in Lightning, this was just insane.

She did wonder, though. How would Lightning react if she learned of Ragnarok, and the beast’s role in her past? A rejection from that woman, as relaxed as Fang had tried to be about the whole thing… She knew it would be crushing.

 _Don’t kid yourself,_ Fang told herself firmly, glancing across to the soldier’s impassive face again. _Lightning would get it. I did what I thought I’d needed to do, to save Vanille. She’d have done the same for Serah._

That was right. Even if Fang had been Ragnarok at the end of the War, even if she’d destroyed her home and her whole damn planet, there were still people who’d think she was still worth the time of day. Vanille, obviously. Then there was Lightning. Even the rest of the l’Cie. It was true, wasn’t it? Fang set her jaw, refusing to accept the possibility of another alternative. She needed this to be true so badly, or the weight of her past could reach out and bury her alive.

But Lightning was still quiet, and had been that way ever since the fight with the juggernaut had ended. Was the woman just embarrassed about losing out to a war machine that had been designed to take out l’Cie and Eidolons? Etro, but the woman had some stiff-necked pride. She’d done well just to survive the encounter, but try telling Lightning _that._

Lightning’s silence was giving her too much time to think, and Fang didn’t want to be left in the oh-so-pleasant company of her own thoughts. Lightning didn’t look as if she’d be talking any time soon, so it was up to Fang to ease the tension.

“I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again,” Fang announced with a false casualness, deliberately slowing her pace to a slow swagger. “You have the self-preservation instincts of a lemming running for a cliff, you know that? Bloody suicidal.”

Lightning made a sound that could have been either annoyance, or amusement. “Just so you know, it picked a fight with me, first.”

“Like the King Behemoth last night, right?” Fang snorted, letting a smile touch her lips again. This banter with Lightning was making her feel better already. “You’re really something.”

“I did what I had to do, and made a rookie mistake while doing it. It won’t happen again,” Lightning told her, a hint of self-reproach in her voice, and Fang nearly slapped the woman upside the head. She really was an over-proud Cocoon viper… it was far past time for Fang to take Lightning down a few pegs, and she had just the barb that would do it.

“I dunno. It was a real sweet thing you did, but it was seriously idiotic, too.” Fang’s smile widened then, as she looked Lightning up and down, trying not to enjoy the way it made the other woman twitch. “That’d be something I’d expect from Snow, not _you.”_

“I kept Vanille safe, didn’t I?” Lightning stopped then, crossing her arms against her chest almost defensively, those blue eyes suddenly refusing to look at Fang.

“Yeah, and I knew you would, but-”

Lightning exhaled sharply, starting to move stiffly onwards again. “Then that’s all that matters.”

Fang rested her hand against her hip, frowning at Lightning’s coldly dismissive tone. In front of the others, sure, she could understand that Lightning wanted to keep this whole business under-wraps. But alone? Fang didn’t like the way Lightning was suddenly distancing herself again.

Maybe Fang was a little desperate to be proven right, that Lightning would still welcome her company even if Fang _was_ Ragnarok. It was the only thing that she could think of, to close that sudden emotional chasm between them. Lightning’s shoulders had tensed when Fang grabbed hold of them, and she thrust Lightning, roughly, against the subterra’s wall. The other woman grunted at the sudden impact, maybe feeling a spike of pain from her mended ribs, but Fang closed the distance between them in a flash.

Fang leaned in close, the scent of roses and _Lightning_ lulling her for a moment as she met the other woman’s blue eyes. They were still defensive, perhaps a little annoyed at Fang’s actions. Fang could feel Lightning’s hands on her own shoulders, hesitating in the act of pushing Fang away. Well, that hesitation was more than Fang had hoped for – she’d been expecting to be shoved back and cursed at.

No, Fang decided, as she noted the reluctant blush colouring Lightning’s cheekbones. She’d been wrong, after all. Fang didn’t love their kisses _just_ for that look of melting coldness in Lightning’s eyes, or for the way Lightning pretended not to enjoy it all. It was also for herself. When she was with Lightning, like _this,_ so close and caught up in the whirlwind of emotion and lust, it was so much easier to live with what she’d done, easier to forget the past and live for the now, like she’d always tried.

“I suppose you think you’d be deserving a reward for your idiocy?” Fang asked her softly, letting her lips brush the other woman’s ear. She felt Lightning shiver, felt Lightning’s hands tighten against Fang’s shoulders. Fang felt her own pulse quicken at the reaction, savouring the way Lightning hovered somewhere between denial and desire.

“Fang, I-”

Fang didn’t let Lightning finish, and pressed her lips against the soldier’s in a searing kiss. She felt Lightning’s body go completely rigid at the first brush of skin, and Fang wondered if she’d read Lightning’s body language wrong. Lightning _had_ been wanting this, right?

Lightning’s gloved fingers tightened in her sari, and then suddenly the other woman had dragged Fang down against her – hard. In spite of her surprise at Lightning’s sudden fervour, Fang let herself respond just as forcefully, relishing the taste and texture of Lightning’s lips, the unexpected fiery passion. Lightning’s free hand pressed against the back of Fang’s neck, tangling in the long hair and pulling Fang even closer.

Etro, Fang didn’t know what had gotten into the soldier, but right now she couldn’t care, because Lightning wasn’t hesitating now. Fang moved her hands from the soldier’s shoulders, to stroke her face and soft throat, threading through those soft spikes before reaching out to brace herself against the tunnel wall.

That Lightning trusted Fang, enough to expose her vulnerabilities like this to someone as dangerous as Fang was… Even if Lightning couldn’t know of Fang’s past as Ragnarok, the level of trust was both reassuring and intoxicating.

She needed more.

Fang dared to brush the tip of her tongue against Lightning’s lower lip. She felt the other woman’s response, tentative at first, but quickly growing more certain. Lightning was a damnably fast study at this kind of thing. Fang slowed the kiss down as she languidly explored the inside of the soldier’s mouth, stifling a needy groan as Lightning pulled back slightly, as Lightning’s teeth grazed Fang’s bottom lip.

It had been far, far too long since Fang had been with another woman like this. Last night had been nice, but –

Fang felt Lightning’s breath hitch. Suddenly the Lightning’s hands were on her shoulders, and the soldier shoved her away forcefully, breaking the kiss. Fang stared at her in confusion, trying to read Lightning’s body language, to figure out what the hell just happened. Lightning wasn’t meeting her eyes again, and Fang’s gut instincts screamed _bad news._

“I’m… sorry,” Lightning’s voice was still hoarse and breathless from the kiss, her cheeks still flushed. Why could she look so beautiful, while saying something like that? “But I can’t _do_ this, Fang. I just… can’t. This was a bad idea.”

Fang was silent, letting the words lie between them. She was unsure that she’d heard Lightning correctly. After that kind of kiss, Lightning was putting a stop to it all? It was insane, it was unbelievable, it was-

 _Well, that’s got to be a new record for you, Fang,_ a traitorous voice inside her laughed as she still reeled from Lightning’s rejection. _How quickly she came to fear you! Nothing more to be expected of Ragnarok._

“…should have seen it coming, really.” Fang felt cold, a numbness spreading out from her centre and travelling fast. Normally, she would have just reached out and shaken Lightning, demanded why there’d been such a sudden change in attitude. But now, there was Ragnarok in her mind, the knowledge of all she’d done to Gran Pulse and Cocoon. _This_ was her just reward.

The beast that scarred Cocoon and destroyed Gran Pulse couldn’t be happy, after all. It was only right, wasn’t it?

Lightning must have sensed her sudden anguish, because that defensive look in her blue eyes had softened. “Fang, just listen to me for a moment.”

Fang turned her back on Lightning, on the heart-wrenching look in the other woman’s eyes. Etro, it burned to look at the soldier and know that she’d been rejected so thoroughly.

 _It’s a bad idea to take it up with Ragnarok. It’s good that Lightning doesn’t actually trust me, after all._ Fang clenched her teeth, so hard that her jaw hurt.

“I gotta go,” she told Lightning. As she jogged away, Fang forced herself not to look back. She still had Vanille, she reassured herself vehemently, and that was the most important thing. More, she still had the rest of the l’Cie. Family. New friends, people who would stick by her no matter what.

But Lightning had been the closest of them, and if she’d rejected Fang, just like that, then who was to say that the others wouldn’t spurn her too? Self-doubt rose up, threatening to drown her. There was light at the end of the tunnel up ahead, and Fang fought to get herself under control again.

She had to talk to Vanille, sort this out once and for all. Fang stepped into the light of the flower-filled fissure, and braced herself.

###

Lightning closed her eyes, letting her head rest against the tunnel wall as she let out a shaky breath. She was still breathless from the furiousness of the kiss, from the sudden heat that Fang had sparked inside her. She hadn’t meant to let it take over like that – she’d just wanted to savour that one last kiss. But that was all over now, and she’d finally put an end to this ridiculous relationship idea.

It was the best course of action, that much was undeniable. No more distraction, no more embarrassment and uncertainty. Those were the things that would turn her cie’th before her time. Either that, or they would simply get her killed. She opened her eyes, staring at the murky ceiling.

But if it really had been the best course of action, then why did she feel so awful? She slammed a fist against the wall, her jaw tight as she tried to get herself under control. Logical, rational thought should always win out over her traitorous heart. Silently, she listened to the sound Fang’s rapidly-retreating footsteps, until they were droned out by thudding of monsters and the grind of distant, rusted-up machinery.

Fang wasn’t supposed to have taken this so _hard._ She was supposed to have just shrugged it off, like water off a flan’s back. Lightning sighed. Perhaps Vanille had been right, then. But she’d tried to let Fang down gently-

_You did a great job of that, soldier. Kissing her like that, in easy view of the others, what was she meant to think?_

-so Vanille couldn’t ask any more of her than that. Fang had chosen not to listen to what Lightning had had to say, so Lightning could wash her hands off the mess. She lingered in the tunnels for a moment, trying to get a grip on her emotions and her regret. She had to be strong.

After she was certain that Fang was gone, and that her strength of will was steadying, she began to set off in the direction that Fang had gone.

She quickened her pace, and was relieved to see that within one, seemingly short mile, the tunnel had finally ended. The warm, afternoon sunlight streamed gently into the caves, and she blinked away the discomfort in her eyes as she went from total darkness to light.

Snow, Sazh and Hope were leaning against cave’s wall, near the exit of the subterra, all eagerly watching something that was going on outside the cave’s mouth. Snow glanced in her direction as she approached, holding a finger up to his lips in a quieting gesture when she opened her mouth.

After her disastrous conversation with Fang, Lightning was in no mood for Snow’s little games, and she shot Hope a pointed look.

“Fang told us to wait here, while she had a talk with Vanille,” the boy told her quickly, his expression grim. “Said it was private, and that she’d ‘skin the idiot who interrupts’.”

Lightning made a small sound of irritation as she crossed her arms over her chest. If Fang was taking it out on the rest of the l’Cie, then the other woman was sure to be in a foul mood. No need to guess who was responsible for that mood swing, either.

“So whatever it is, it’s gonna be juicy,” Sazh added, but he didn’t look away from where the two Pulsian women were now talking. If she strained, Lightning could just make out the sound of Vanille’s voice, carried to her ears on the light breeze. What were they talking about? Lightning’s gut constricted painfully – had Fang gone running off to Vanille for comfort?

Snow snorted, thumping the subterra wall with a fist. “Whatever, I thought that Eidolon battle was pretty sweet. That thing had _arms,_ man.”

 _Eidolon battle? Fang defeated Bahamut back at the Ark._ Lightning’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. _Then it must be Vanille’s, not Fang’s. Which means that they were talking about some problem of Vanille’s, something bad enough that she’d need one of Etro’s messengers._

“Very astute, son,” Sazh replied dryly to Snow, as Lightning looked past the latter’s huge shoulders and out into the sunlit fissure. Disappointingly, it wasn’t the end of the tunnels, and was simply a small break, but it was a relief when all she’d seen was darkness, rocks and old robot militia for the last few hours. The subterra’s split was filled with grass and delicate, white flowers. Fang and Vanille stood at the centre of the fissure, holding each other close.

Fang didn’t look so shaken up, now that she was with Vanille. Lightning’s stomach twisted. She remembered the look in Fang’s eyes, the image vivid in her mind’s eye. She didn’t think she’d forget it for a very long time – a look that was all disbelief, hurt and guilt.

“Come to think of it, I’ve been wonderin’ about those two. Reckon they’re… you know?” Snow crossed two fingers of his hand, waggling his eyebrows dramatically. Lightning felt her anger spike again, and she shoved him into the tunnel wall. Snow didn’t have the slightest clue of what he was talking about, but that kind of conjecture touched on a rawness that still lingered no matter _what_ she kept telling herself. Her heart still disagreed with her mind, it seemed.

That would change, eventually. It always did.

“If you’ve got time to be gossiping, Snow, then you’ve got time to upgrade your Umbra patch,” Lightning told him harshly, giving him a severe scowl and cracking her knuckles threateningly. Satisfied with Snow’s muttered apology, she looked out into the flower-filled fissure again, towards where Fang and Vanille still held onto each other.

It shouldn’t matter what the relationship between those two actually was – it wasn’t her business. Not anymore.

…

Fang had been dead-on correct about who had been Ragnarok, all those years ago. The truth had been inescapable, even if she’d desperately tried to latch onto the hope that she hadn’t been the destroyer of her own home. Fang squeezed Vanille’s shoulder reassuringly again, to let her know that she didn’t blame Vanille – not for letting Fang become Ragnarok, not for lying all this time. As far as Fang was concerned, Vanille was her sister and she was blameless. She was Fang’s whole world.

 _I’d burn the world for her sake._ She remembered telling Lightning that, back when they’d first met. At the time, she hadn’t known that she already had.

But that didn’t mean that Fang didn’t blame herself for Gran Pulse’s destruction. No matter what she’d been thinking or why she’d done it, no matter how hard she’d fought and killed in the War of Transgression, the genocide of her own people wasn’t something that Fang could stomach. Not while sober, anyway.

And then there was Lightning. Maybe the woman had sensed that deep down, Fang was nothing but a fal’Cie’s monster. She slackened her hold on Vanille, holding the girl at arms length. Fang smiled, but the expression felt fragile and hollow. Vanille’s green eyes were still worried, even after all Fang’s muttered reassurances – Fang supposed that her sister had always been able to read her like a book.

“Fang? What’s wrong?” Vanille questioned her, softly.

“…it’s nothing you need to concern yourself with, all right?” Fang didn’t want to have to lie to her, so she simply dismissed the question out-of-hand, even if she wanted to scream. No, things were not alright. She was the beast that had wiped out Gran Pulse, scarred Cocoon, and she was _not_ somebody Lightning trusted. Lightning, who she’d been so certain of, who’d made Fang feel a little more at peace with herself, a little less like a monster.

A gentle hand touched Fang’s cheek, drawing her attention back to the present. Vanille had always had a way of doing that, of disrupting Fang’s more morbid thoughts and reminding her that there was light and hope and something to fight for. Even if the whole world seemed dark and dreary, now. Exactly what did they hope to find at Oerba? Just another shell of a city? The brand on her shoulder stung warningly.

“Fang.” Vanille’s voice drew her back again, and suddenly the redhead was in her arms once more. The tingling in her brand was forgotten as she heard Vanille whisper, “Please, just talk to me. You’re too quiet. It’s scaring me.”

 _Ragnarok is meant to scare people,_ Fang wanted to tell her sister. _It’s the end of the world._

There was no need to stress Vanille with that grim observation, though, and Fang’s voice was deliberately light-hearted when she finally spoke. “It’s just a little much right now. This whole thing, that I was really _Ragnarok…_ it’s a lot to process.”

Fang felt Vanille nod against her chest, but her sister didn’t release her from the embrace.

“If it matters, you didn’t do all of _this_ on purpose. It was… it was an accident. The only thing you did was try to fill a Focus, because I was too scared.”

Vanille still loved her, even despite knowing the awful truth. Fang nodded to herself, trying to convince herself of that. Lightning’s rejection was nothing, _nothing_ compared to the warmth of her new family. She just had to keep telling herself that.

“I know,” Fang whispered against the top of Vanille’s head, tightening her grip on Vanille’s shoulder. She had to take what comfort she could. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the rest of the l’Cie emerge, blinking, from the shadows of the subterra. Of course, Lightning had led the way, and the woman didn’t even spare Fang a glance as she began to order the rest of the group about.

 _Lightning._ The name burned. Just more proof that Fang destroyed everything she loved, because she’d somehow ruined whatever she’d had with Lightning. It still hurt to look at the woman, and she could still feel the soldier’s lips and supple body, see those half-smiles and flustered scowls –

She tore her gaze from the soldier. No, while Lightning was just there, she was now as far from Fang’s reach as the stars in the sky. Desperate to look at something else – _anything_ else – Fang’s gaze feel on the white, Oerban flowers that had grown in the fissure. She knelt quickly, plucking two delicate stems from the ground and tucking the first one behind Vanille’s ear.

Vanille’s worried look didn’t change though – she wasn’t fooled by Fang’s actions. She might not know what had just transpired between Fang and Lightning, but Vanille would guess. Etro, but the disappointment and concern in her sister’s eyes was almost unbearable. Fang looked down, noting that the Oerban flower was now crushed between her fingers.

As she heard Lightning’s sharp orders to begin to move out again, Fang shouldered her bladed lance and let the smashed-up flower fall to the ground.

No matter how much she wished it wasn’t so, the memories of being Ragnarok changed everything.


	6. Sulyya Springs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting worse. Lightning’s brand is accelerating, despite her best efforts, and Fang’s quietness isn’t helping things. Taejin’s Tower is looming like a shadow in the distance, and everything is going to come to a head – whether the two like it or not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we begin the Taejin’s Tower arc, and one would hope that it doesn’t take me as long to get through as the Mah’habara Subterra one. Words cannot describe how difficult this chapter was to write, and how many scenes/words/hours were scrapped because it just wasn’t coming together. Both Fang and Lightning are being very, very frustrating at the moment.

The group of l’Cie were weary by the time they dragged themselves from the last tunnels, and into the fading light of day. Taking point, Lightning couldn’t help the small sigh of relief that passed her lips as cool, fresh air stirred her hair and eased the tension between her shoulder blades. No more darkness and fear, or cramped and tiny corridors.

Lightning never thought she’d miss the Archylte Steppe, but it was amazing what ten hours underground could do to a woman. She glanced quickly behind her. The rest of the l’Cie looked just as glad to be free of the tunnels as she felt, if Hope’s slow smile and Snow’s drained fist-pump were any indication.

“Hey. Lightning. You mind if we call it quits now? I know we gotta get to Oerba, but… I’m beat.” Sazh’s voice was tired, and he loudly cracked his back with a pained wince. His chocobo chick chirped and floated on the breeze to one of Vanille’s pigtails. The Pulsian girl nodded in agreement, but didn’t move from her position at Fang’s shoulder.

“I can’t even make a fist anymore,” Snow added, massaging the knuckles of one hand with a grimace. “Lucky that I’m a pro with blizzards, because if I don’t get this on ice, it’ll hurt like bitch tomorrow. Damn robots, messing with me…”

“I could probably use a break, too.” Hope tried his best to make it sound like he’d be more than happy with pressing on anyway. Lightning wasn’t fooled – he’d survived a solo round against that juggernaut. She was proud of him, but his exhaustion was obvious.

As for herself… For once, it seemed that Fang’s irritating gloating had been correct. The creatures and robotic militia they’d encountered in the Mah'habara Subterra had been an entirely different level from what they’d seen in the Vallis Media and the Steppe. If things were going to get worse from here, they could all use extra time to prepare before pressing onwards.

“Fine, we rest here for the night,” Lightning said, and turned to Fang and Snow without missing a beat. “Fang, Snow, we’re going to go clear out this area–”

Fang’s derisive snort cut across Lightning’s orders, drawing all attention to her. Fang’s expression was closed off, and it soured Lightning’s mood further.

Of course. Things were not back to normal, no matter how much Lightning wished it was so. It was far too easy to fall into old patterns of behaviour, into letting herself rely on Fang too much again. Despite the lingering rawness following their confrontation, Lightning apparently just couldn’t help herself.

Lightning made a sound of irritation in her throat. It was a reliance that she’d have to reconsider, because things were never going to go back to the way they’d been. Lightning had waited too long.

Fang had been deadly quiet since the Eidolon battle in the flower fissure. Lightning hadn’t pushed her. She’d kept her distance, waiting until Fang had a chance to sort through her emotions and come to understand that _this_ couldn’t happen now.

They just needed a little space between them, Lightning told herself as she watched Fang. That was all.

Fang wasn’t even looking in Lightning’s direction any more, and she’d turned her back on the group of l’Cie. Still lingering at Fang’s side, Vanille looked somewhat conflicted by her sister’s change in attitude. When Lightning tried to catch her eye, Vanille shot her a hurt look and sharply shook her head. No, Vanille did not understand. Neither was Vanille going to forgive this so easily.

It didn’t matter, Lightning decided as she scowled. Whatever. Vanille could deal with Fang, because she was more than welcome to that mess.

“Maybe I’ll help you out later, Lightning.” Fang’s tone seemed normal enough. It was almost like she didn’t have a care in the world, as if she wasn’t still reeling from their discussion. “I got things I need to deal with, first. Unless you guys don’t wanna eat…?”

“Uh, sure we wanna eat?” Snow replied, scratching the back of his neck and looking a little bewildered by her question.

“Then I think you’re just gonna have to _manage,”_ Fang told them, harshly, as she looked over her shoulder and met Snow’s gaze. There was an undercurrent of anger and bitterness to her voice. _“Without_ me babysitting you lot.”

And with that final, venomous announcement, Fang strode back into the Mah'habara Subterra.

Lightning exhaled sharply, resting a hand on her hip and watching Fang vanish into the darkness again. That simmering anger was no more than Lightning deserved, really, for having led the woman on for as long as she had.

“Whatever,” Lightning said, scowling to cover her discomfort. “Sazh, Snow, give me a hand scouting out the area. Hope, Vanille… Go and make sure she doesn’t do something stupid and reckless.”

Lightning thought she heard Fang scoff in the distance, and then turned back to the others. There’d be time to deal with Fang’s anger and hurt. Just… not right now. Night would be falling soon, and frankly she had enough to deal with until then.

###

_Lightning closed her eyes as she felt Fang’s lips and tongue brush a sensitive spot on the side of her throat. Her fingertips lazily traced the sinewy muscles of Fang’s forearms, running over the leather warrior’s band that Fang wore on her right bicep and to the frozen brand on her shoulder. The skin felt scarred and rough under her touch, and she heard Fang’s sharp intake of breath, before she caught the huntress’s lips again in a heated kiss._

_Lightning could feel the harshness of Fang’s breath against her neck when the huntress broke away abruptly, felt Fang’s thigh easing between her own as she savoured the way Fang was losing herself._

_Twitching to awareness as she heard buckles cinch undone, she felt Fang’s fingers at her throat again. Lightning nodded quickly to something that Fang whispered hotly against her ear, more than eager to follow Fang’s suggestion, no matter what it was -_

###

Lightning’s eyes snapped open and she sat up with a strangled gasp. Her sweaty hair clung to the back of her neck, and she felt hot and clammy and aching all at once, and Eden it was both wonderful and disastrous. With a groan, Lightning flung her blankets away, needing to feel cool air against her skin.

Her brand felt tight, and she was finding it difficult to breathe. Lightning’s entire body still ached deeply from the dream, and it was clamouring for more of the same until it found sweet release-

Lightning stilled, listening to the sound of the water bubbling around the small island they’d made camp on, to the reassuring crackle of the fire nearby. If she looked upwards, though, the Sulyya Springs ceiling gaped open, and she could see the distant glow of Cocoon, surrounded by a sea of natural stars.

The sight of her home, even though it was so far away, made her feel a little less strangled by her brand and the weight of her Focus. Frustratingly, the reassuring sight did little to ease the tense ache between her shoulder blades and thighs.

She’d thought that this kind of thing would stop, once she’d ended things with Fang. Lightning knew she could handle the occasional bursts of lust she had for the woman, and Lightning could – and would – deal with the way her heart was refusing to agree with her mind. But these dreams, they were the worst part, and they were a sign that she really was out of control.

Irritably, she cast about for something to distract herself with.

She still had Serah to rescue, Lightning reminded herself, and she’d need all of her willpower to see that her sister was revived from crystal stasis. There was Barthandelus, and his sickening plan to turn one of them into Ragnarok and destroy the world. To get one of them to open the door to the hidden world, or _something._ She didn’t really understand the whys or hows of his plan, only that she intended on defying it to the end.

“Hey. You all right, Sis?”

Snow’s words startled her from thoughts, and Lightning kicked herself. In her distraction from the dream, she’d forgotten that there’d be a sentry up. How much of her unrest had she given away? Lightning met Snow’s eyes from across the fire. The better question was, she amended, how much Snow had picked up.

“I’m fine,” Lightning told him in a low voice. “Just some strange dreams. Nothing unusual.”

The lie sounded obvious to her ears, but Snow nodded slowly, as if it explained everything.

“Ragnarok?” Snow asked, still nodding to himself as he slung an arm across his knee. He looked up to Cocoon, probably towards where he believed Serah would be. “Man, just wish those dreams would leave us alone already. We’re _not_ gonna do it.”

Lightning was silent, watching him over the fire. Humour and blind optimism, those had always been Snow’s tools in fighting off the creeping despair that dogged them all. Did those visions of Ragnarok still haunt him? Since coming to Pulse, she hadn’t really given the original dream much thought. Or rather, Lightning supposed as she shot a glance towards Fang slept, she’d had other things on her mind.

Yawning widely, Snow snatched Lightning’s attention back as he jerked a thumb towards her. “You keep banging on about us getting rest while we can, so maybe you should try to get some shut-eye. Or I am seriously making you switch places with me, because I am _beat.”_

“You’re right,” Lightning told him softly. She had been pushing them too hard, and those of their group that weren’t used to these conditions were suffering for it. “We’ll be resting here tomorrow. Things are only going to get more dangerous from here on out.”

“Good to hear. Well, uh, not the whole bit about things getting harder. But we could really use the break.” Snow looked thoughtful now, and satisfied that she’d soothed any suspicions he might have had, Lightning rolled over.

She faced the cooling darkness, listening to the gurgle of the springs and trying to will her mind back to sleep. Tomorrow they’d lose another day to the Focus, another day before they could reach possible help at Oerba. How much longer could they delay, before the first of them began to turn into undead monsters? Lightning’s brand ached constantly these days. It was all arrowed and hideous when she checked, but not any more than Snow’s, Sazh’s or Hope’s.

Fang could probably tell them how much longer they had, Lightning knew, but the huntress wasn’t exactly talkative these days.

“Hey, Sis. You still awake?” Snow asked, slowly, interrupting her thoughts again. Unbothered by his question, Lightning pushed herself to a sitting position – thinking on the brand wasn’t exactly the material that made for sweet dreams. She could use the distraction, if she was going to be honest. Lightning sat herself on the rocky ground beside him, and waited for him to speak.

“It’s about Fang. She… seems really tense,” Snow told her, wincing slightly as Lightning’s eyes narrowed.

 _Of course it has to be about Fang,_ Lightning noted sourly as she glanced over to where the other woman was sleeping. _Maybe I relaxed too soon._

“And what am I supposed to do about it?” Lightning asked, her voice deceptively calm as she looked back towards Snow. The man scrubbed a hand through his messy blond hair nervously, seeming to sense the rising tension. Lightning supposed she had to give Snow more credit – maybe he did have more self-awareness than a rock.

That didn’t change the fact that Snow was broaching a very sensitive topic.

“Well… I don’t really know,” Snow said, haltingly, in what he probably considered an appeasing tone. “But you’re usually pretty good at kicking her out of her funks, right? I mean, think about it. The _Palamecia,_ even in the Ark. She was going to give up, and you stopped her.”

He nodded then, seeming more sure of himself now. Whether the result was something he blundered into or not, Lightning had to admit it. Sometimes, Snow could bring up a good point.

“Somehow, I doubt she’ll talk to me,” Lightning muttered, rubbing the bridge of her nose and sighing.

Snow tilted his head, squinting at her in confusion. “Uh, why not? Give yourself a little cred. You’re more to this team than you think. You’re… you’re like the _rock.”_

“The rock,” Lightning repeated the words, arching an eyebrow. Was he planning on qualifying that ridiculous statement?

“You know. To Hope, and me, and… well, even Fang. Probably not so much to Vanille or Sazh, but – scratch that.” Snow sucked in a breath when he paused to reorder his thoughts. Maybe he wouldn’t shove his foot in his mouth, this time.

“What I was trying to say is, if not for you, maybe we wouldn’t have even made it this far. Maybe we would have self-destructed. Who knows? But that’s something, right?”

Lightning was silent, watching the glow of the embers as the fire consumed the fuel. Poorly worded or not, she understood what Snow meant. Consciously or not, she’d tried to hold them together. She’d tried to give them all something to hold onto, to make Snow’s insane declarations seem a little more feasible.

Working plans, goals, missions – it became easier to paint an optimistic future for the rest of the l’Cie, when they were given a tangible goal.

“So, I think that you can fix whatever’s wrong with Fang. You usually do.” Snow laughed a little, then. _“Beat_ it into her, if you have to. You’re good at that.”

“You seem oddly concerned.” Lightning’s voice was sharp, and her gaze cut back towards him again. Just how much did he know? How much did he guess about the nature of her… unique relationship with Fang? Or was it all an innocent coincidence? She’d have to stop being so sloppy with her emotions, Lightning told herself as she watched Snow’s reactions carefully.

“Well, for _one,_ Fang’s my friend, but I suppose I have my motives.” There was no guile in his expression, as he grinned over at her. He really had no idea of just how much he was winding her up by dwelling on this subject, she realized.

“Truth is, acting like she was earlier on… It sounds so callous, but I don’t want her bringing the morale of the group down. You and me, we’ve done too much to get people to think positive.” He slammed a fist into his palm. “Can’t let it all go to waste, right?”

“True enough,” Lightning agreed quietly. He didn’t understand the full story, nor Fang’s reasons for acting that way, but he had a point.

Group cohesion, and the positivity they’d been attempting to foster, was far greater than any individual spat she and Fang were having. Fang’s attitude was jeopardizing it, so as the group’s leader, there was really no other option available to her.

Whether Lightning liked it or not, tomorrow she’d would have a talk with Fang about it.

_So much for giving her space._

###

Lightning slept fitfully for the rest of the night, and it was only in the pale hours of the early morning that she finally dozed off. Her body seemed to have taken a vengeance in catching up on the lost hours, though, because Lightning awoke to find that the morning was well under way.

A quick interrogation of Hope – even though Lightning was still blinking back the rawness and sleepiness from her eyes – revealed that Snow had made an executive decision to let her sleep in. Apparently, she’d looked like she needed it.

Releasing Hope’s shoulder from her grasp, Lightning had to admit that she certainly felt like she needed another ten hours of rest. But on Gran Pulse, that was a luxury that none of them could afford. They had to keep training, and they had to keep moving and when they got to Oerba…

Eden only knew what they’d find there.

 _Not that I’m ungrateful for Snow’s decision,_ Lightning amended with the hint of a smile, as she scanned her group. As she’d expected, Snow was poking at the fire, Sazh was fixing her a breakfast of last night’s leftovers, and Hope was sitting on the ground nearby, upgrading his weapons with the handful of components he’d scrounged up the day before.

As Lightning began to sip at the thin broth that Sazh handed her, her mood darkened as she noted the conspicuous absence of both Fang and Vanille. Lightning scanned the hills around the springs quickly – she couldn’t see a sign of either Pulsian, she realized with a silent sigh. Fantastic.

“Where’s Fang?” Lightning asked Hope quietly. Belatedly, she added, “And Vanille?”

“They left early this morning. Really early. I was barely awake!” Hope told her, not pausing in his duties as he modified his array of boomerangs. “Kinda funny to see Fang up so early, you know? Usually you have to drag her out of her blankets.”

“That’s certainly true,” Lightning said, wryly, as she finished the last dregs of the tasteless soup.

“Yeah, she didn’t even want me to back them up, said she only wanted Vanille with her. How strange is that?” Hope asked, finally looking up and meeting Lightning’s gaze. “Fang’s real edgy at the moment. While she made it sound nice enough, she had this real predatory look about her. I knew that if I valued my head, I wasn’t going to force the issue.”

“Oh, I know _that_ look,” Sazh added, sinking down next to Hope and beginning to upgrade his own guns with the components that Hope had ditched. “Started getting it in the Ark, before soldier-girl here knocked some sense into her. The way you told her to get her ass into gear and defeat that Eidolon… blunt, but effective.”

 _Sounds a lot like what Snow was talking about, last night,_ Lightning noted, and she made a small sound of annoyance. _I wonder._

Her gaze cut back towards where Snow was sitting by the fire. He had the gall to attempt to look entirely innocent, raising his hands as if to ward off Lightning’s suspicion.

“Y’see, sis?” Snow said, and he laughed and tossing his stick into the fire. “Like I said last night. You got this.”

If that statement wasn’t enough to tip Lightning off to the group’s little conspiracy, the identical expressions of pure innocence on Sazh’s and Hope’s faces were. She wondered, again, just how much they suspected – if anything.

“How flattering,” Lightning told them, crossing her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow. Fact was, nobody else was willing to take the blow and talk to Fang, so that left the task up to her. Even if they were pulling this ridiculous ‘charisma’ stunt, their bravery concerning Fang’s moods was _astounding._

“You lot just don’t have the balls to deal with her.”

“Hey, if the shoe fits.” Sazh shrugged, not missing a beat. Of the lot of them, his eyes were too knowing.

Lightning sighed, seating herself on the spring’s edge to begin to maintain and polish her blazefire saber. As she ran an oil-cloth over the exposed chambers of her weapon, she frowned to herself.

Last night, Snow had made a good point, and it had only been reinforced this morning. His persistence in following this issue up, indicated that he considered it important enough to nag her. Involving the other two only clarified his position, and made clear his sense of urgency.

They walked a knife edge these days, between sanity and eternity as the undead. The brand on her chest tightened at the thought.

Lightning scrubbed at the filth that had worked its way into the mechanisms of her dualweapon, cursing silently. There was nothing for it. Lightning would have to talk to Fang about everything, and soon. She couldn’t say she was looking forwards to that conversation, either.

Lightning knew Fang was angry and hurting. She knew that things weren’t the same. But a part of her wondered – if she went to Fang now, tried to make things right, would she lose herself in her emotions again and give too much of herself?

No matter Lightning’s feelings on the matter, she’d been designated the leader of their group. It was up to her to deal with any problems. And truth was, it would be easier to push back against Fang’s anger, than it was to yield to her weakness.

That was right. She just had to think of it as a mission, as something that Amodar or one of the other lieutenants had entrusted her with. Lightning’s gaze fell on the shadowed entrance to the subterra.

There’d be no backing down, not this time.  


###

She really wasn’t fighting out of anger or hatred, Fang decided as she and Vanille moved silently through the subterra once more, heading south. It was back towards the flower fissure and the place where her entire worldview had changed, and Fang ignored the involuntary way her stomach clenched at the memories.

No. It was really more an effort to soothe herself, futile as was, from the pain, the bitterness, and the worry. Those all-too familiar feelings dwarfed any anger she might have felt. Those feelings… they were exactly what Fang was running from.

Fang wasn’t angry at Lightning, no matter how brusque she’d been with the soldier the day before. And of course she’d been hurting! Every time Fang looked at Lightning it just felt worse – but it would be deluded to say that the rejection was the sole reason for Fang’s current state. Her life didn’t revolve around Lightning bloody Farron. Because right now? Fang felt like she was drowning in her memories of the War of Transgression, in Ragnarok and the evidence of her failure.

That was what ate at her every thought, until she wanted to throw her head back and scream.

Fang had just needed to leave the Springs, to leave Lightning and the evidence of her ravaged world behind, or she’d snap and do something she’d regret. Fang’s grip tightened on her spear as she picked her way across a crumbling bridge.

Fighting to clear her head had always been a good option, even back before, and so Fang had decided to take Vanille on a few impromptu hunts.

Really. There was nothing like a rousing battle to wake you up and stir the blood! The more desperate the struggle for survival, the better Fang’s mood would be. She snorted softly, shaking her head as she assisted Vanille across the next gap in their path.

Foolish as it was, she’d go head to head with any monster short of a juggernaut. Fang needed the challenge, and the blessed freedom from thought that she craved.

She’d do _anything,_ just to be rid of the all-consuming paranoia that dogged her, the fear and the creeping feeling of hopelessness that grew stronger with every passing hour. Sharing a reassuring smile with Vanille as they forged deeper into the subterra, Fang had to admit that having Vanille there, battling by her side, really did help matters.

Etro, if it weren’t for the ruins of their old world, this would have almost felt like old times, just two l’Cie against the world. But _old times_ didn’t really stir the fondest memories within her, and when Fang looked back, she could see just as much bad as there was good. So, sure. Vanille’s presence helped. But at the moment, it just wasn’t _enough._

Fang sighed. The worst part was, she knew that Vanille’s presence hadn’t been enough to stop the fear last time. And just look where _that_ had gotten them.

Squinting, Fang spotted a trio of flans in the subterra’s path. She forced a smirk that she couldn’t feel – the beasties weren’t all that far from their position. That big one in the middle could be a challenge…

Wordlessly, Fang raised her free hand, making an old Pulsian sign with her fingers to warn her sister of the dangers up ahead. She quickly glanced backwards, to make sure that Vanille had read the sign correctly.

Vanille had obediently raised her rod, but her expression was flat, and her face was a little worn and tired. From the crease in her brow and the tight press of her lips, Fang could tell that Vanille was worried. Probably for Fang, or maybe it was for the steadily-advancing brands of the other l’Cie, or maybe it was for this empty world that Fang just _knew_ she’d caused as Ragnarok –

Fang clenched her jaw, turning back to her prey.

_Just let it go already. Fight, if that’s what it’s gonna take. I’ll fight ‘til I can’t fight any longer. And then I’ll fight some more._

With a wordless roar, Fang sprinted for the flans, ignoring Vanille’s startled shout. Her lance cut across the first flan in a wide arc, a strike that was hard enough to shear through bone but not enough to damage the gelatinous sludge of a body. The uselessness of her blow drove her onwards, spurred her on to fight even harder and faster. She flung herself into battle, before her mind could turn on her again. She fought to stop the stinging in her brand and the crushing feeling of despair –

But she. Couldn’t. Stop. Thinking.

With every hour that passed, she remembered the War of Transgression more clearly. The victories, the losses, her mistakes and all that violence. If she closed her eyes, she could see the faces of comrades, both l’Cie and human. They were people she’d worked with, who’d counted on her to win the war and free them from the vipers and fal’Cie up on Cocoon.

They’d had faith in her, they’d _trusted her,_ and what had happened? They’d all been wiped from existence by her failure. Fang tightened her hold on her spear and reversed her next strike against the flans, her breath becoming a little ragged as she fought more furiously. The blade finally cut deeply into the jelly, probably courtesy of Vanille’s quick stagger, but Fang gave a self-satisfied whoop regardless.

Fang smoothly ducked the next clumsy blow by the flan, and didn’t miss a beat as she rammed her spear up and into the delicate brain cavity that gave the ooze sentience. The flan shuddered and began to melt, but Fang was already moving to her next target. Maybe this one would be more of a challenge. _Maybe._

Fang deftly avoided the string of spells that Vanille sent to harry the flan, leaping high into the air before slamming her spear down in a powerful strike. Again, it wasn’t enough! Before the monsters could recover themselves from Highwind’s impact, Fang had forced herself to keep moving, to keep fighting even harder, but _still_ her mind kept drifting back.

There were her old comrades, but that wasn’t even the worst of it. There was Oerba. Etro, but what had she done to _Oerba?_ Fang’s breath came hard as she pivoted to turn on the final flan. There was only one reason she could see for the group to continue this insane quest across the continent. To see, with her own eyes, what she’d done to the old orphanage, to her old friends and her home.

Cocoon, the ancient enemy. Vipers, the hedonistic heathens in the sky and the ones Fang had been tasked with wiping out. She’d had no problem with it, once. The Ragnarok Focus had been an honour, no matter Vanille’s fear and reluctance. When it had all come down to it, the Focus hadn’t been just an honour, but a necessity. Fang had to take the satellite from the sky, or Gran Pulse would lose the War.

Fang had never expected to fail, nor had she realized what the consequences of failure would be…

Somehow, those vipers had stopped her attack. Fang’s brand stung again. So really, _they_ were the ones to blame for Gran Pulse’s current state. Blaming Cocoon felt natural, even right.

Fang frowned, not hesitating as she dispatched the last of the flans. But there was something different, now. Since working with these Cocoon-bred l’Cie, she’d come to realize that vipers weren’t all that bad.

That recollection was enough to draw Fang away from her morbid ruminations, and back into the present.

Fang’s chest heaved, her throat was burning, and there was the stench of death all around – just like so long ago – but she was back again. Fang blinked the sweat back from her eyes, and she sheathed her spear on her back.

Her breath normalized quickly, but she had to wonder. Just how far had she been gone that time? She’d been so absorbed into the struggle of the fight, but even then, it hadn’t been enough to put an end to those hateful thoughts.

Just how much more was it going to take, before she got a little peace?

It just meant that she had to hunt down a bigger challenge, Fang realized as she walked back over to Vanille. She needed something that would make her _fight_ for her survival. Something to stop her from thinking back on stuff she couldn’t even change!

Fang ran a critical eye over Vanille, checking for any injuries. Her sister was whole, even if a little breathless, but what really struck Fang was the whiteness in Vanille’s face, the sudden uncertainty in her eyes. The last time that Vanille had looked like _that,_ had been –

“Fang… can we head back already?” Vanille asked, softly, her brows knitting together in a frown as she toyed with her rod’s hooks. “Please?”

Head back? Now? How exactly was Fang going to put her problems behind her if they just up and turned back? She shook her head at Vanille’s pleading look. Maybe the next fight would be the jackpot. Maybe Lady Luck would be on her side, and they’d unearth another juggernaut.

The less insane part of her paused at that. ‘Luck’ and ‘juggernaut’ rarely existed in the same sentence, except for when they were accompanied by ‘bad’.

“I’m not done,” Fang told Vanille firmly, crossing her arms against her chest and beginning to travel deeper into the subterra.

She couldn’t hear Vanille following along, though, and Fang looked back over her shoulder. Vanille was still frowning, her weapon now stored at her hip, and looking very determined not to move another step. Fang groaned inwardly.

_“Fang.”_

Fang really wasn’t going to win this one, was she? When Vanille got that certain look about her, even the fal’Cie wouldn’t be able to stand by their convictions…

 _Bloody kitten stare._ Sighing, Fang walked back over to her sister, clapping her on the shoulder.

 _“Alright_ already. Sheesh. What’s gotten into you all of a sudden?” Fang asked, trying to make her voice sound light, or maybe a little playful, but Vanille just shook her head.

Fang let her false cheerfulness drop again, and they began to travel back towards the Sulyya Springs. Fang really didn’t want to go back, not yet. Not when she was still as tense as a fal’Cie’s priest, only far more likely to lash out and hurt some innocent bystander. Vanille _knew_ her mood. Why was she making them go back?

###

Not long after Lightning had begun to clean and maintain her dualweapon, Snow had convinced Hope to assist him in heroic exploration and the reclamation of Pulsian territory. Had she been there, Fang would have had more than a few harsh words with him. Nobody called Gran Pulse ‘hell’ while she was listening, nor spoke about ‘reclaiming lost land’.

Lightning sighed as she adjusted some of the calibrations on her weapon. Or, before yesterday, that’s how it had been. It had almost been reassuring, and that fire and constant defence of her home world had been things that Lightning had come to expect from Fang.

Snow had been right. Fang’s mood had darkened significantly, and it really was bringing the rest of the group down…

Sazh, who always had the good sense to stay out of Snow’s schemes, sat at the fire beside her, toying with his guns and practicing his Ruin spell on a few loose rocks in the spring’s wall. Since the other two l’Cie had left, almost half an hour ago, Sazh had been quiet, but thoughtful.

Lightning also remained silent, waiting for him to say his piece. If he had the balls to say it, anyway. She remembered the look of realization he’d worn yesterday. He probably knew, all too well, what was wrong with Fang.

By the time Lightning began to meticulously sharpen the edges of her weapon, Sazh had begun to clear his throat.

 _Nice timing,_ she noted, running the old-fashioned oilstone down the length of the blazefire’s edge.

“So, how goes things?” Sazh’s voice seemed oddly hesitant, for asking such a mundane question, so Lightning supposed that there’d be more to it.

“Tomorrow, we’re going to start climbing Taejin’s Tower. You ready?” Looking up from her weapon, Lightning’s gaze cut towards that darkened, looming tower in the distance.

The broken spire had once been called Taejin’s Tower, she’d heard Vanille tell Hope yesterday. It had been a monument to Gran Pulse, a way of reaching for the heavens and proving that they didn’t have to be vipers to touch the sky. Now, it was nothing but another broken husk, unable to stand the test of the War of Transgression and rotted by the passage of time.

There were no points for guessing that the remains were crawling with cie’th and monsters. At this point, Lightning just chalked it up as just another hellish day on Gran Pulse, though she’d never voice it aloud. She just had to take the challenges as they came.

Lightning heard Sazh snort softly to himself, and it drew her attention back to their haphazard encampment.

“Yeah. Getting itchy to move this show along, but that wasn’t what I was asking.” Sazh suddenly paused, looking pained as Lightning resumed her task. “You… you mind not doing that while I’m talking? Makes me feel like you’re trying to think of the best way to stick that oversized army knife into me.”

Lightning’s lips twitched into a half-smile. “That really depends on what you’re going to ask me.”

“…well, that’s not the most reassuring thing I’ve heard all day,” Sazh complained, running his fingers through his afro and frowning. He sighed, and then continued. “But, things between you and Fang… they seem a little rougher than usual.”

Lightning didn’t hesitate in her long, smooth motions. “They’re always rough.”

“Mm, and I get that, I really do,” Sazh said, raising a hand to forestall her next words. “But seriously, Light. She’s been acting like a storm cloud ever since that little chat she had with Vanille, and… I wondered if you had some idea of what’s gone wrong.”

Lightning let the silence go on for a moment, to make him sweat a little.

Of course he’d figured out _what had gone wrong,_ Lightning thought. Sazh had already known that there’d been something between her and Fang. After their night on the Steppe, and the fallout from their conversation following the juggernaut fight, he’d have to have been blind and cognitively impaired not to have some idea.

Drawing the stone firmly along the blade, Lightning glanced over to the subterra’s entrance, to where Fang had vanished with Vanille.

“She just heard something that she didn’t really want to hear. Must have been hard.” Lightning spoke the words calmly, but they felt robotic to her own ears. It was a trained, detached response, one devoid of her own feelings on the matter. At least she was starting to get her emotions under control again.

“Of course,” Sazh agreed, but he still looked slightly troubled by Lightning’s answer. “But I thought that you two were close. Like _this.”_

Crossing his fingers, he imitated the crude gesture that Snow had made before, while the group had rested at the fissure. In spite of herself, it brought to mind the feel of Fang’s lips against hers, the crush of skin against skin and the feeling of desperately wanting but not trusting herself to have –

“You thought wrong.” Lightning’s words came out more harshly than she intended.

“I see,” Sahz said, but in spite of her anger, he met her gaze directly. “So that’s what it is, then? Just her being hurt? That’s what you think is wrong with her?”

Lightning scowled, dismissing him with an annoyed mutter and turning her attention back to her weapon. “This really isn’t any of your business, Sazh.”

“Not my business? Sure it is. Because Snow’s right.” Sazh’s expression softened. “I’m… _we’re_ worried about her. There’s a lot Vanille and Fang aren’t telling us still, and it makes me wonder. What does it feel like, to hold a secret that you feel you can’t share with anyone? What’s more, they’ve seen their home wrecked. Just… it’s something to think about, is all. Not going to tell you what to do, and whatnot.”

Lightning didn’t respond, lost in her own thoughts again. Occam’s razor had dictated that the most obvious answer to Fang’s dark mood had been the rejection. But now that Sazh had put an alternative perspective on it, she wasn’t so sure. Maybe he was onto something, there. Back at the fissure, whatever Fang and Vanille had talked about was bad enough to summon an Eidolon.

She shook her head. So. Perhaps Fang’s current mood might not be solely Lightning’s responsibility. Maybe there was something else going on, that Lightning hadn’t seen in her absorption in her own selfish problems.

Maybe. But there was really only one way to be sure.

###

By the time the two women emerged into the clear light of day, the tiny amount of good Fang had done on her hunts had been shattered. That oh-so joyous ball of paranoia and fear in her stomach was wound more tightly than ever. Being here with the rest of them again, it just reminded her of the stakes that they played and the fact that time was ticking on…

Snow and Hope seemed to have gone off for some exploration, because Fang couldn’t see the lug anywhere near. Well, good. His attempts to lift her spirits were sweet, if entirely misguided. No matter how often he repeated his little peptalk, he had to realize that it would do no good. That mind over matter bullshit he was spouting was starting to get on her nerves.

In spite of herself, her gaze gravitated towards the remaining two l’Cie. Sazh was sitting by the fire, with Lightning sharpening her weapon beside him – Fang snorted to herself. Funny how the act could look so casual, and yet so deliberately threatening. Fang had noticed that Lightning tended to use it as an intimidation tactic, even if such blatant psychological warfare never worked on Fang.

Fang felt a pang of regret as her eyes ran over Lightning, followed by a shadow of anger that she knew was unjustified. She hated it. Even though Ragnarok’s shadow dwarfed everything else in her mind, the fact that she still cared, still hurt from Lightning’s rejection –

_Betrayal?_

\- was maddening. Everything became so much worse, when Fang was reminded of what she’d somehow screwed up.

Things had been awkward and distant between them, ever since the juggernaut incident. Maybe, if it hadn’t been for Ragnarok, Fang might have been able to stomach Lightning’s rejection a little easier. Maybe there wouldn’t have been this insurmountable wall of ice and awkwardness between them. Etro, maybe Lightning would have still been willing to give her a shot…

_I wish things were different. I wish we could talk. Maybe it’d take a little of the burden off, I could really use a hand with it right now. But if I say something about Ragnarok… would you declare me your enemy?_

As she and Vanille approached, Fang saw Sazh murmur something to Lightning, and from the sudden set to the woman’s shoulders, Lightning had been gearing up for a confrontation. Fang halted, her mind teetering between taking Lightning’s lecture like a true Yun, or hightailing it out of there like a wounded lobo.

_Yeah… no. Not in the mood for this. She said what she wanted to say yesterday. Besides. She doesn’t really want to talk. She just wants to act the leader. I’ve heard it all before._

“Fang,” Fang heard Lightning begin in a low voice, but Fang darted past her, tilting her head in a mocking bow.

“Maybe later, Lightning. Still got work to do, if you don’t mind.”

It seemed as though she’d judged the soldier’s mood correctly, because a flicker of uncertainty crossed Lightning’s face. It was just momentary, but it was all the opening that Fang needed to push her way onwards, towards where the ruins of Taejin’s Tower rose into the afternoon sky.

The distance between her and Lightning felt yawning now, and those barriers of ice had only strengthened in her mind. Fang set her jaw, jogging for the tower. No matter how much it hurt, she knew that it was better this way. The fact was, these people were all doomed if they found nothing at Oerba. Her new family would shatter under the Focus, and one-by-one they’d turn cie’th, until she was the only one left to put them out of their misery.

Lightning, Snow, Sazh, Hope, and then finally Vanille. They’d all fall, and that would be the end. Barthandelus would come up with another batch of l’Cie to do his bidding, making all this defiance pointless.

_Stop it._

Every time she lowered her guard, those thoughts were back there, her despair devouring all hope. Compared to seeing her family turn monster, Ragnarok didn’t even seem that bad. Fang smiled bitterly. She knew that Vanille’s brand was hovering between the eighth and ninth stages, but she supposed that was because Vanille knew all the mind-tricks that could slow the advancement.

From Snow’s arm, from Sazh’s chest and Hope’s wrist… she knew that the brands of the rest of the l’Cie were far more advanced. They fluctuated between the tenth and the eleventh, and they were spreading faster every day. Just how much longer did they have, before those red eyes opened and the brands consumed them all?

She’d do anything to stop it.

Fang paused in her run, then, feeling her brand begin to prickle. She looked up at the satellite that hung in the sky, and wondered.

###

Lightning watched Fang retreat into the distance, annoyance creasing her brows. The woman was as slippery as a toad, and was probably about as dangerous as one, too.

 _No matter,_ Lightning told herself firmly, looking towards where Vanille was standing. Surprisingly, the girl had deigned to let Fang go on alone. Sazh’s observations were still ringing in Lightning’s ears, and she thoughtfully considered Vanille. If there was one person who was privy to all of Fang’s secrets, it was Vanille.

 _Even when Fang is asked to keep quiet,_ Lightning remembered, her scowl deepening.

She watched Vanille begin to skip about the Sulyya Springs, watched the girl occasionally kneel to collect a few of the native herbs and spices that grew in the area. Fang and Vanille were closer than sisters, so perhaps interrogating Vanille would yield a better answer.

Pausing to sheathe her weapon, Lightning told Sazh in a low voice,

“I’ll be back. Stay sharp.”

As Lightning quietly followed Vanille to an isolated island, a sizeable distance away from where they’d made camp, she noticed Vanille twitch and look over her shoulder. Well, Lightning supposed that growing up with Fang, Vanille certainly should have picked up a few skills in self-awareness – even if the girl rarely utilized them.

Unlike said sister, Vanille allowed her to approach, but a frown had creased her brows and she’d hesitated her herb collection, just for an instant.

“How is she?” Lighting asked her without preamble, as she crossed her arms. No need to specify who ‘she’ was, not when Fang’s anger and Vanille’s warning fell like shadows between them.

“About what I… expected.” Vanille’s hands deliberately went about their task, but her voice was carefully level. Lightning was silent, waiting for Vanille to continue. Such seriousness was uncommon for Vanille.

“I _did_ ask you to be gentle, Lightning,” Vanille said, her voice taking an accusing note as she finally stopped gathering those plants.

Lightning shrugged. Vanille had told her that Fang might be more invested than Lightning had first thought – _not_ that Fang would act like a child, even when Lightning had tried to reason with her. Exactly what had Vanille expected her to do? Trap herself in a relationship that she wasn’t sure she even wanted?

There was hardly a need to antagonize Vanille, not when Lightning was attempting to pry information from her.

“She doesn’t seem the sort to act the fool like this, though,” Lightning said, looking at Vanille sharply. “What’s really going on? Is this idiocy about _me,_ or is it more about what you two discussed in the flower-fissure?”

Lightning wasn’t sure of her suspicions, but Sazh had raised a good point and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to follow it through.

 _Push back, rather than yield._ It was as simple as that.

Vanille hesitated, just for half a moment. It was faint, barely perceptible, but it was a fracture in the mask. Lightning frowned. _Was_ Sazh correct? That was… quite a hunch.

“What makes you wonder?” Vanille asked softly.

“It was something Sazh said,” Lightning told her, watching Vanille’s reactions with a steady eye.

Vanille fiddled around with the plants in her hands for a moment, not meeting the soldier’s gaze. She seemed to be deciding something, so Lightning gave her time to consider her options. Let her see that Fang’s behaviour was a concern, and that the rest of the group needed the woman functioning. Lightning’s jaw clenched. She had to be careful, to keep her motivations strictly impersonal, refusing to examine them carefully.

_For the good of the group, for a friend, and that’s as far as it goes._

“…I know I said I wouldn’t run, but some secrets aren’t mine to share.” Vanille’s voice was still low, but there was a steely quality to it that Lightning had never heard from Vanille before.

“Meaning?” Lightning asked, her frustration with Vanille – Eden, with _Fang_ – rising quickly in spite of her self-control.

“There might be more to it, Lightning, but if Fang wants you to know…” Vanille hesitated, looking quickly off in the direction of Taejin’s Tower, to where Fang had vanished, before rushing on. “Well, she’ll tell you herself.”

“That’s a good theory. But it has one big problem. We aren’t exactly talking.”

“I noticed,” Vanille said simply, turning back to her herb-gathering with a shrug. Lightning scowled at the dismissive tone. Of course Vanille would have _noticed._ She would have had to have been blind and deaf not to _notice._

“Look.” Lightning’s voice was sharp, but it did the job. Vanille’s attention was back on her again. “I know that things… have been a little rough, but I need to try to work this out. Fang is dragging the rest of the group down, and you know how important it is to keep strong.”

Lightning’s brand felt tight again as her thoughts drifted back to it, a warning that they had to hurry. Vanille frowned at her, before rising smoothly to her feet. After a long moment, the expression relented, and she looked into the darkening sky with a sigh.

“I see,” Vanille murmured, and suddenly her green eyes were distant, as if remembering something. “Fang… she would have gone over to the Palisades. They’re these cliffs by Taejin’s Tower. She’s… she’s needed to blow off a little steam recently.”

Vanille paused, giving Lightning the gimlet eye. “Don’t you go and make her worse, you hear me? She’s been through too much, and I even warned you!”

“I know.” Lightning nodded, haltingly.

There had to be a peace offering, though. A reminder to Vanille that maybe this wasn’t permanent, that maybe things could go back to being the way they’d been on the Steppe, in the Subterra. Just thinking about it made her wistful, and it undermined her focus and her resolve to keep her life in order.

_Stay strong._

“Maybe, after the Focus is done, I’ll be able to thinks straight. Maybe then, things will be different, and Fang and I…” Lightning trailed off, shaking her head. “Right now, it’s too much uncertainty and pressure to deal with, and I know that those things will make it worse.”

Lightning touched the brand through the weave of her sweater, sighing.

 _You get a nasty shock, it can speed up the process._ Fang had told her that. Well, the last few days hadn’t been the most calming she’d ever experienced.

Lightning turned away from Vanille, and towards the wide, open path that led to the Palisades. She set her shoulders, and despite the sudden prickle of discomfort in her stomach, she continued onwards.

_Not a matter of can or can’t._

Not for the first time, the repetition of her mantra didn’t help soothe her in the slightest.

###

Fang had seated herself at the edge of the palisades, her legs dangling over and into the steep drop-off. She’d watched the sunset from this vantage point, all blood reds and yellows that had eventually faded into twilight.

Chewing on a blade of grass between her lips, Fang propped the end of her bloodied spear up on her branded shoulder. The corpse of the Goblin King lay sprawled and mangled from their recent scuffle, not five feet away from where she sat.

The creature and its mob of goblins had put up a poor fight against her lance, and they certainly hadn’t proven to be the outlet that Fang had craved. She snorted to herself. The battle hadn’t even been enough to distract her from her morbid rumination of thoughts.

Tilting her head back, she looked up at the oppressive satellite in the sky. Ever since she could remember, that nest had hung over them, like some malicious god. If she was being honest with herself, she believed that Cocoon deserved what was coming to it – just a little.

Fang lowered her eyes, looking across the chasm and towards Taejin’s Tower. Absently, she bounced a small, dusty rock in the palm of her hand. Fang had vague memories of the tower, but none of them were pleasant. Come to think of it, that spire had been where she’d launched herself as Ragnarok. She remembered that Vanille had been against it, had tried to shout her down but Fang had ignored her and forged onwards, because she’d had _no choice_ and it was the same this time -

Swearing, Fang hurled the rock into the distance, listening to the sound of it crashing and clattering down into the depths of the palisades. Her brand was starting to prickle, a sensation that seemed to be buried beneath that partially crystallised skin. She rubbed the flesh with a thumb, thoughtful.

If… If Fang did what that bastard Barthandelus wanted, well, then she’d fill their Focus. Vanille and the rest of the l’Cie could be spared the agony of becoming cie’th, and they’d spend forever in a crystal slumber. Not exactly the best outcome she could hope for, but one thing was for sure. It was better than an eternity as the walking dead. Etro, stasis and a complete Focus was the only _real_ alternative! Snow, Lightning, Vanille – couldn’t they see that?

It would be so easy. All Fang have to do was give into her old despair, give into what was best for everyone and become the slayer of yet another world. She laughed bitterly at the thought. Why was it that all of her problems could be solved by destroying _everything?_

But Fang knew that once she chose that course of action, there’d be no return. For sure, Vanille would never forgive her. Vanille was so set on trying to deny this Focus, that there were times that Fang wondered if her sister would rather become a cie’th than to fulfil it. Thing was, Vanille didn’t seem to get it and when they were talking about such awful consequences, these foolish little hopes of hers could go and hang themselves! Fang couldn’t just stand by and let her sister wish herself into a cie’th.

And then… then there was Lightning, who Fang knew would fight her to the end over this. If she had even the suspicion of what Fang was considering…

Her brand stung warningly, no longer just a prickle but a deep burning, one that went right down to the bone –

The scuff of iron-tipped boots on the palisade’s rocky outcrop warned her of her approaching company. Fang looked up with a jerk, frowning as she made out Lightning’s form in the fading light of the sunset. The burning in her brand receded as Lightning paused behind her.

Fang stubbornly waited for the soldier to announce her presence. Even if every one of her senses were straining on Lightning, Fang was careful to give the impression of ignoring the other woman. The sound of breathing, and if she closed her eyes, she could smell Lightning’s unique scent on the air – gunpowder, oilstones, sweat and roses.

Fang opened her eyes again, pushing the hyper-sensitivity of a hunter away. Lightning finally sighed, and Fang heard buckles clink as the soldier crossed her arms in front of her chest.

“You all right?” Lightning asked, softly, and if Fang hadn’t been so focused on her, she might have missed the words entirely. The woman’s voice didn’t seem cold, but there was an odd undercurrent to it. No, definitely not as cold as Fang had expected, and it was more… determined. Fang wished she could turn to see Lightning’s face, or read the other woman’s body language in the fading light.

“I’m fine.” Fang fished another rock up from beside her, and lazily tossed it over the edge of the cliff. It clattered down the side of the palisades, a welcome distraction from Lightning. “Just remembered some pretty nasty business from the War. That’s all. Nothing you need to bother yourself with.”

It was a blatant lie. Better to lie, than to let Lightning know of the awful truth.

_Hey, Light. I’m considering destroying Cocoon, in the vain hope that your crystal selves will survive the impact of that bloody vipers nest with Gran Pulse. How would you go about striking down Orphan? Since I failed pretty badly last time, I reckon I could use a few pointers._

Fang snorted bitterly, listening to the sounds of Lightning’s presence. Etro, but what she’d give to have her ignorance back again.

“You want to talk about it?” Lightning asked her, and she almost didn’t sound reluctant to be getting herself involved in Fang’s problems. The distance that had grown between them wavered for a moment, as Fang shot the soldier a look over her shoulder.

“Talk about it? Frankly, all I wanna do is _forget.”_ That was the truth, at least.

Fang watched Lightning for a moment, before turning back to look out over the cliffs again. It felt deceptively good, to be talking with Lightning again. Even if she knew that the small comfort wouldn’t last, and that this wasn’t something she could stop and enjoy.

She heard Lightning make a sound of frustration.

“You don’t like to make things easy, do you?” Lightning said, that edge of irritation in her voice again. “Let me put it bluntly, then. Whatever’s going on with you, you need to man up and deal with it. You got that?”

Fang snorted, shooting Lightning a glance over her shoulder again. “What the hell are you on about this time?”

“You. Your childish reaction to getting dumped is unbelievable. You don’t even stop to consider what your actions are doing to the rest of the group.”

 _“Childish?_ What superiority complex are _you_ hopped up on?” Fang snorted again, incredulous. So that was what that determination was about. Lightning actually believed that it was all about getting _dumped?_ That Lightning was Fang’s biggest concern, that it was the only thing that could be wrong? That it was enough to make Fang act like _this?_

Etro, Fang been dumped before. To be sure, none of those men or women back then had really meant all that much, and had been more the means to an end. And sure, the break-up hadn’t hurt so badly, but Fang was a big girl. She could _handle_ a little rejection.

 _Ragnarok_ was the big issue in Fang’s mind, and the reason why she’d been so preoccupied. From the looks of it, Lightning didn’t even have an inkling of the truth.

 _Well, good,_ Fang thought. She could work with this. It was better for Lightning to distance herself from Fang, to prevent the inevitable hurt and pain for when Fang made the hard choice to fulfil their Focus. Because if there was one thing that Lightning was good at, it was her damnable ability to give Fang hope again…

“Well then, _love._ How about you buck up and reap what you sowed?” Fang’s voice was deliberately harsh and confrontational. Press enough of Lightning’s buttons, and the woman was sure to stalk off on her own. “Because frankly, I don’t give a flying fuck what you think is childish or moronic. You did this, so how about you live with it?”

“Tch. This is pathetic,” Lightning told her icily, but the woman was still refusing to do as Fang wished and _leave._ She was more stubborn than Fang gave her credit for. “I thought you were better than this, Fang.”

“You know what? You thought wrong.” Fang stretched, her fingers never leaving her polearm’s haft. Let Lightning take it as a blatant threat, even if it were just a bluff. Annoyed as she was, Fang wasn’t sure if she was in the mood to kick Lightning’s arse.

“…this is a waste of my time.” Lightning’s voice was tight. Etrol, Fang could just imagine the bristling going on back there. “Fine. You can just sit here and wait for Cocoon to fall on your stubborn head, for all I care. Maybe I was wrong to give a damn about how you were doing.”

Fang’s lips quirked in a false smile as she heard Lightning’s boots scuff against stone. So it was finally starting to work. About bloody time.

“Go and run away, then. Knew you were a true viper at heart,” Fang called after her, forcing out a laugh she knew she didn’t feel, and a slur she knew didn’t fit someone like Lightning.

“Whatever.” Lightning’s voice was a low growl, and she began to stride back towards camp.

“You want some advice?” Fang asked loudly, needing to take it a step further.

Fact was, Lightning wasn’t really going to take this confrontation of theirs all that serious, was she? Tomorrow, Lightning would on Fang’s back again, being all sharp and demanding and embodying everything that Fang loved and hated about her. But every moment that they spent together would worsen the inevitable outcome of their Focus, and Fang couldn’t have Lightning reaching out like she’d done in the Ark.

Lightning didn’t respond to Fang’s taunt, but Fang knew she was listening.

“Stop regretting, and start living for once. You lot have got a few days left, tops. Then it’s hello cie’th city.”

The sound of boots on rock faltered, before continuing determinedly on.

Bringing up the state of Lightning’s brand was a nasty blow, and it was an unkind truth that the rest of the l’Cie had been determinedly ignoring for days now. Maybe a little reminder of just how fine they were cutting it would get Lightning’s head out of her arse.

Maybe Lightning would start thinking, maybe she’d understand how Fang felt. Because Etro, Fang cared, even when she wished that she didn’t. Fang shook her head, sighing.

But one thing was for certain, the fight with Lightning had served to galvanise her determination to do whatever it took to save them all, even if they didn’t want it. Fang only had a couple of days left, before she’d run out of time.

She looked down at the darkened corpse of the Goblin King, and swore softly to herself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Notes:** So I think everyone can see why these two were such a bloody pain to write. Their assumptions, faulty reasoning and wrong conclusions are making me want to tear my hair out. At least the daggers are out now, so it’s better than this odd limbo they were stuck in over the course of this chapter.
> 
> Also, Fang, your reasoning sucks, but that’s the intention here.


	7. Taejin's Tower

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The party begins to connect the dots, leading to realizations. After Taejin’s Tower, Oerba lies just over the horizon – just how much worse could things get?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lol at that question. How long is a piece of string? That’s how much worse it could get. Will it get that worse? Hm, I suppose everyone has to wait and see. On a note, Snow was were promoted to viewpoint character, as writing some scenes in either Lightning’s or Fang’s viewpoints might have made my brain explode into angry, fiery frustration.
> 
> I also note that some people are asking if this will follow the game events. I guess if you don’t know the answer to this already, read and find out.
> 
> Apologies for the late update.

_Stubborn bitch,_ Lightning snarled silently, as she retreated from the darkened palisades. _I try to make things right, I try to reason with her, and what does she do?_

Swearing softly, Lightning’s fingers compulsively brushed over the brand on her chest, and when she’d realized what she’d done, she snatched it away just as quickly. The sensation of yawning fate dangling above her, waiting to fall, seemed even stronger now. Fang’s taunts had hit so close to home, she’d just dropped her intentions and ran.

Lightning made a savage sound in the back of her throat, Fang’s actions looming again in her mind. She had tried to reach out, and for her trouble, Fang just had lashed back at her. She’d brought up the brands, and that had been the worst part. Fang didn’t even seem to care about the looming danger – the brands were just another insult to her.

 _Exactly what had I been trying to say? That she needed to pull her head in, that we needed to keep it positive! So obviously she goes out and she does the opposite, just for a little petty vengeance. Disgusting._

Sazh’s hunch had been incorrect, and there was nothing wrong with Fang. Lightning had been a fool to believe that they could have reached a reasonable and peaceful solution. Eden, she’d been right to get out of the relationship while she’d still had the chance! The last thing she needed was to be tied down to a belligerent child.

She wanted to kill something, to revel in her anger, to do anything to be rid of the hurt slowly welling up under her rage.

As she entered the Sulyya Springs, Lightning noted that the group of l’Cie were huddled about the fire. Snow looked up at her approach, curiosity flickering across his features.

Lightning ignored his wave of greeting, choosing to hop onto an isolated island. Perhaps the cooling darkness would help soothe her anger? Lightning leaned against one of the rocks jutting from the island’s surface, crossing her arms irritably. Even if she had to keep away from the other l’Cie while she tried to cool off, it didn’t stop Lightning from entertaining vivid thoughts of going back and just beating sense into the stubborn woman.

Her peace was short-lived. The scuff of shoes on rock alerted her to Vanille’s approach, and in the moonlight and the residual light from the fire, Lightning could see that Vanille’s expression looked worried. Lightning’s jaw tightened. Fantastic. Vanille was the last person she’d wanted to talk to.

“How did it go?” Vanille’s voice was hesitant and cautious. She already knew the answer, then. Why even bother with the charade?

“Just as expected. Your sister is a confrontational, petty fool,” Lightning replied, her eyes cutting towards Vanille. The girl hardly seemed shocked by Lightning’s statement, just a little disappointed with it.

“I thought…” Vanille swallowed audibly, before rushing on. “I thought you were going to go talk sense into her. Not-”

“Good luck to whoever gets that job, because I’m done with her, and her with me.” Lightning’s voice was laden with contempt, her mind struggling to emphasize the anger over the incredible feeling of hurt still resonating in her chest. She looked out into the darkness, towards the shadowed path to the Palisades. It was too late for regrets or hurt feelings. Their positions were clear.

Vanille’s eyes widened slightly. “What did you do? Lightning, I told you-”

“Why the hell do I have to be the villain in all of this?” Lightning cut in harshly, overriding all of Vanille’s accusations. What the hell did she know, anyway? “Why has it got to be something I did? Your sister is no Sanctum Primarch, that’s for sure. I tried to talk to her, and she showed her true colours. I’ve done my part. That’s all there is to it.”

Vanille was still frowning, but at least she wasn’t hurling around those unfounded accusations. She made an angry sound in the back of her throat, pivoting sharply and striding back towards the campfire.

Screw Fang, and screw Vanille. Lightning was done with this.

###

Fang let the deepening darkness of the night grow around her, until she was certain that Lightning was really gone. The last thing Fang wanted was to encounter the woman alone again, to spark another fight. Etro, the way things were, Fang wasn’t sure she could handle another confrontation like that.

 _Still. Gotta do what I gotta do. And alienating Lightning is the best possible action, right now._

She felt ill. She shouldn’t have tried this, but the half-baked plan of desperation left her no other option.

 _Break Lightning’s faith. Break her trust. Drive her away, so that by the time Ragnarok rose again, she’ll have naught the time to stop it._

It was a lengthy walk back to the Sulyya Springs, and by the time Fang arrived, the scent of food on the breeze was enough to make her stomach rumble. Instinctively, her eyes sought out Vanille – the ball of paranoia in her chest eased a little at her sister’s obvious safety. Fang’s eyes swept over the camp, lingering on Lightning for a moment in spite of herself.

The answering gaze was sharp and unforgiving, and Fang forced a smile. Good, her plan was still working. She’d never known victory to taste so bloody bitter, though.

Having noticed Fang’s approach, Vanille was moving away from the rest of the l’Cie now. Fang’s smile felt a little less forced this time, and she rested her lance against her shoulder. Vanille would make her feel a little better, she was sure of it. Though that frown didn’t look all that promising, nor the tense way she was holding her shoulders –

Vanille’s hand shot out and fastened about Fang’s wrist, and she hissed something absolutely incomprehensible in Fang’s ear. Fang allowed herself to be dragged away from the l’Cie, accurately deducing that Vanille wanted a little talk. Sheesh. The least Vanille could have done was asked. Did Fang ever deny her anything?

“What did you do?” Vanille demanded with a hiss, capturing Fang’s attention again. Her green eyes were completely serious for once. So her sister meant business? There was really only one way to deal with that rare occurrence.

Fang just raised an eyebrow, letting her lips twitch into a ghost of a smile. “That there is a vague question, Van. I’ve done a lot of things. Care to clarify?”

Vanille pouted, but from the sudden stubborn set to her chin, she wouldn’t be deterred by Fang’s gentle mockery. Bugger.

“Lightning went to work things out with you, and she comes back like _that!”_ Vanille windmilled her arms in Lightning’s general vicinity, causing the rest of the l’Cie to notice the wild gesture and look over towards them. Vanille continued, but in a much lower voice, “If it wasn’t her, then it must have been you! What are you thinking, Fang?”

Fang snorted to herself. So Lightning would have already faced Vanille’s twenty-questions routine… which meant that Vanille would already have some idea of what had transpired over by the Palisades. Well, she’d know exactly what Fang had manipulated Lightning into believing, sick as it was.

“What, coming over all confrontational-like and berating me is _working things out?”_ Fang scoffed, shooting Lightning a glace over Vanille’s shoulder. That feeling of choking bitterness seemed to increase as she spat out, “Pft. Cocoon vipers. They’ve got no fucking clue, as always.”

“That’s because you won’t tell her why!” Vanille said, starting to look cross at Fang’s apparent lack of concern with the situation. “Of course she’s jumping to the wrong conclusions. You haven’t told her anything!”

“And I won’t.” Fang’s voice was flat. There would be no arguments about this. She rubbed her frozen brand wearily, feeling the roughened crystal under her fingertips. “Look. I just stopped giving her a reason to like me at all. It’s that simple.”

Vanille’s eyes widened, and her expression was dismayed. “Why? Fang, I thought you cared for her!”

“It doesn’t matter.” Vanille looked absolutely appalled with that response, so Fang continued. “It’s best that Lightning stays away, because when I let Ragnarok rise to complete the Focus you lot refuse, then it’ll save her a whole lot of hurt and betrayal.”

“There’s no reason to complete it!”

Even when her voice was so low, Vanille’s anger was obvious to Fang. Her hands were clenched, she was scowling, and wow, Vanille might have actually stamped her foot! She hadn’t seen Vanille get so angry in a long time. There’d been too much guilt and pain in her eyes for that, memories of a nightmarish Focus and a stunning failure.

“Because I know that we’re going to _defeat_ our Focus, no matter what. So stop it! Fang, you had better go make up with Light right this instant!”

“Or else what?” Fang replied, feeling weary all of a sudden. Between this fight and the one at the Palisades, she was drained of her ability to function. Or to even care. “Face it. There’s nothing you can do. I’ve made my choice, and I’m going to stick to it.”

“It’s happening again, isn’t it?” Vanille asked quietly, her anger fleeing as quickly as it had come upon her. Her eyes were narrowed, and fixed on something beyond Fang’s shoulder.

“What is?” Fang reached out, automatically. Emotionally exhausted as she was, she wasn’t going to stand by while her sister was upset. It didn’t mean she was going to back down over this.

“It’s… it’s nothing.” Vanille’s voice was soft, almost inaudible, and she grasped Fang in a tight embrace. Fang closed her eyes for a moment, savouring the close contact and warmth and affection. This was what she missed. This was what she had to protect, no matter how difficult. Her arms squeezed around Vanille reflexively, before she opened her eyes again.

“How far along is it?” Fang asked then, and she felt her sister flinch at the reminder of the ticking time bomb on her thigh.

“Ninth stage.” There was a hesitation, and she felt Vanille’s fingers curl in her sari. “I’ve been trying, but-”

Fang bit off a harsh expletive, and stopped herself from clenching her hands into fists. There was not enough time. There never was.

###

Tomorrow, in Snow’s opinion, was usually meant to be a better day than the one that preceded it. Well, that’s how the sayings usually put it, and that’s how Snow normally viewed things. But since the Hanged Edge? He’d been hard-pressed to find a day that didn’t royally suck ass. He tried to keep his mind away from it, he tried to see the glass as half-full! And so, somehow, he’d managed to let himself believe that his group wasn’t blessed with suck.

Snow yawned widely, blinking back tears of sleepiness. He nodded to Lightning, letting her take her preferred position at point, to lead them onwards to Oerba. The woman took her early-starts way too seriously…

But even in spite of the usual tension, things had been going almost well, before Fang had blown a fuse over something. Was she still mad about the whole stealing-of-thunder during the juggernaut business? Somehow, Snow didn’t think so. She’d seemed happy enough afterwards, if a little touchy. Snow hadn’t really thought much of it, but the next thing he knows, Fang’s thrown him back into the subterra, starts fighting an Eidolon, before having a heart-to-heart with Vanille.

Well, he’d told himself, the least Fang could have done was ask nicely. Was she taking lessons on Cocoon manners from Lightning? Because a backhand to the face was a bit of an extreme reaction to ‘hello’…

Things hadn’t gotten better since then. Confused and a little concerned, Snow had asked Lightning to deal with Fang, because if Vanille wasn’t going to talk about it, Lightning was the next best thing. Or, that’s what he’d thought. But lately Lightning had been… well. Snow was starting to wonder if Fang had insulted Lightning’s mother or something.

Word from the not-so-wise – don’t try that.

He’d been pleased to hear Sazh say that Lightning had gone to talk with Fang last night, but he couldn’t say he cared for the results Lightning had gotten. Seriously, he wasn’t sensing much of a decrease in tension in the group. If anything, Fang was even more sullen, and now there was the added bonus of Lightning being absolutely furious. How had she managed that? Lightning was meant to be the tactful one. If he’d wanted someone to go put their feet in their mouths and fuck up, he would have sent himself.

 _Nice plan,_ Snow congratulated himself sarcastically, as he followed the rest of the l’Cie past a bunch of cliffs, towards that big tower-majig that he’d almost convinced Hope into exploring. He smiled as Vanille announced something to the group, his mind skimming backwards to remember what she’d said. Something about being on the track to Oerba?

“You’re almost home,” he said, nodding and raising his eyes to stare up at the tower, his attention turning from Sazh’s further comments. So, Taejin’s Tower, was it? He pounded a fist into his open palm. Looked like a challenge.

The group of l’Cie passed through the darkened corridors that led to the interior of the broken tower, until they came to a wide, open area. Snow craned his neck again, staring up at the huge height of this thing. Five hundred years, and this bastard was still standing? Snow’s estimate of Gran Pulse’s usefulness was going up in spades, these days. He wasn’t sure that anything on Cocoon was built to last. Not like this, anyhow.

Snow frowned, his gaze sweeping the whole hall, and the statue that the rest of the group had gathered around. He could have sworn he’d heard a voice. He hadn’t been able to understand a lick of it, but… he shifted his shoulders uncomfortably, unable to shake the odd feeling.

“I’m… I’m not the only one hearing that, am I?” Vanille asked, her eyes wide and staring up at the statue of the big dude with the big sword.

“No, uh…” Snow replied, fiddling with the back of his bandana nervously. So if Vanille was also hearing it, that meant… Well, Snow had no idea what it could mean, aside from monsters, or fal’Cie, or statues beginning to talk-

“It couldn’t be _them.”_ Sazh jerked his thumb towards the statue, his eyebrow raised. He turned his eyes to Vanille, seeming to doubt his own conclusions. “Could it?”

Wait. So _Sazh_ also thought that the statues were talking too? Snow felt a little less idiotic now.

“I don’t know,” Hope said, his eyes darting to where Lightning was standing, her arms crossed, her expression apathetic. “It’s weird, like voices in my head.”

Well, if Hope was looking for some sort of guidance from Lightning, he wasn’t going to be getting it today. Snow looked at her, a little more carefully. Come to think of it, it wasn’t really like her to just dismiss Hope’s theories like that. What the hell was going on with her? Her and Fang, he amended silently. Something had to be up.

“I hear it.” And so, folks, those were the first words out of Fang since last night. Snow listened carefully as the woman translated, _“Your presence here draws the tyrant’s gaze. Leave this place at once.”_

The statue had to be speaking in Pulsian, because Snow couldn’t make head or tail of the murmuring of voices in his head.

“We can’t leave, this is the only way for us to get through!” Vanille told the statue, almost begging. Snow wasn’t really sure how he felt about that. Begging a statue? What exactly was a statue going to do? Kick them out?

“Please!” Vanille continued. “Help us.”

The murmuring crash of voices in Snow’s skull intensified again, and he grunted. Wasn’t exactly the most pleasant sensation in the world, that was for sure.

Fang just shrugged the rest of the l’Cie’s discomfort off, as she translated, _“As you wish. Look for us, and the way will open.”_

The elevator that was summoned for them didn’t really look all that safe. Actually, it kind of looked like a death trap, with all those rickety pulleys and rusted panels of metal. Snow looked over his shoulder towards Lightning, who merely offered him a sceptical eyebrow. So, Sis wasn’t all that sure of the statue’s offering, either, even if she wasn’t speaking up about it. Women. Why were they so complicated?

“That was easy enough,” Sazh said, smiling a little as he made for the elevator.

“You never know. Could be a trap,” Hope replied, frowning.

“Could be. Don’t see no stairs, though. Do you?”

“Nope.” Fang laughed slightly then, but when Snow turned to look at her, her eyes hadn’t moved from the statue. “That’s our ride – bumpy or not. So. We splitting up?”

“Shotgun leader!” Snow cut in over Lightning, pumping his fist as he heard her make a harsh sound of annoyance at his enthusiasm and speed. Yeah, no more taking orders, and if he played his cards right, he wouldn’t have to deal with either Fang or Lightning! Things were looking up-

“I’m taking the kids, then,” Sazh said, laying a hand on Hope and Vanille’s shoulders. “Have fun.”

 _Oh hell._

“What?! No! You can’t do that! You’d leave me with-” Snow’s words froze in his mouth as he looked over towards Lightning again. Lightning was openly glaring at his insinuations, and Fang was still looking determinedly at the statue.

“Um,” Snow amended, quickly, before either of them decided to take offense at his mistake. “Two _very_ lovely ladies. Yeah, I’ll go with that.”

Sazh just laughed softly, walking off with Hope and Vanille before Snow could challenge him further. Snow took a deep breath to galvanize himself, before turning back to his more volatile companions with a false grin. Oh yeah. This was tense, if the clench to Fang’s jaw and the twitch in Lightning’s eyebrow was any indication.

This was going to be uncomfortable.

###

They’d been travelling up this fal’Cie-forsaken tower for nearly four tiers now. Frankly, it felt like four tiers too many, Lightning noted with a scowl as she holstered her blazefire saber at her side. The savaged ruins of the cie’th mob lay behind her, a warning to those that would dare to challenge them again.

Her simmering anger towards Fang seemed to give her an extra ferocity behind her attacks, and she didn’t mind the edge. As she advanced onwards to the next in the network of elevators, Lightning shot a quick look over her shoulder. Snow was surveying the destruction of the previous battle with a slightly bemused expression, and Fang…

Lightning’s frown deepened, and she resolutely turned her gaze forwards, leaning up against the wall of the elevator. Did they think she’d just wait around for them all day? She snorted softly. Not likely.

Snow and Fang eventually joined her, and Snow muttered a half-hearted apology that Lightning ignored. Fang was still staring at the roof with an expression of apathy, as the ancient elevator shuddered to a start. The expression seemed entirely out of place – Fang was never one to mask her emotions in such a way.

“Took your time about getting here.” Lightning kept her voice terse and impersonal, but she’d been the victim of enough of Fang’s jabs so far today. Fair was fair. “I thought you might have gotten lost on the way over. Wouldn’t have been the first time you’d been too stubborn to see common sense.”

Fang’s eyes snapped down from their study of the ceiling. For a moment, Lightning thought Fang was actually going to say what was on her mind, but with what seemed like an effort, the Pulsian woman bit back the response. Lightning felt her own anger spike at Fang’s continued refusal to communicate.

 _The brand, and your complete refusal to see reason. How could you pretend to be so unaffected by everything you said back then?_

Surely Fang felt something. Anger, regret, maybe some smug superiority at having won the last round of their clashes? Lightning had no idea what emotion Fang was masking, but she intended to dig at that façade until it fell.

Snow, however, groaned loudly and repeatedly thumped his head against the wall of the elevator.

“I swear to Eden, I can’t take this anymore. The constant bitching and all those snide little comments…” Snow told them, through his clenched teeth as he fixed them both with a glower. “You know what? It’s gonna drive me nuts! This whole thing is like some sort of twisted lover’s spat or something!”

There was a tense pause, as Snow looked to where she and Fang stood.

Snow frowned, and he began to blink slowly as he processed what he’d just said. Lightning could almost see the gears in his brain struggling to life as they began to work for once. Her stomach clenched, but there was little reason to conceal the battered remains of her relationship with Fang. Lightning’s eyes cut towards Fang again, and noted that she suddenly seemed to be listening to Snow very intently.

“Like… like one of Serah’s chickflicks.” Snow swallowed audibly, starting to blink rapidly. “You know the ones. Where there’s some huge misunderstanding and the two… hate each other. It’s… just like _that.”_

Lightning remained silent. He’d put it together, it seemed. With how careless she’d been about it all, she was a little surprised it hadn’t been sooner than this.

“Just like in what-now?” Fang asked then, her voice lacking all of its usual lightness and mockery. Apparently, the word _chickflick_ and all its associated baggage was lost on her. Lightning made a sound of annoyance in her throat.

“Eden,” Snow breathed, his blue eyes very wide now as he openly stared at Fang, and then at Lightning. He didn’t seem to know how to process this new realization. “You didn’t deny it right off. That’s… Wait. Are you?”

“No,” Lightning told him, feeling the elevator around them shudder as the rusted gears brought their ascent to a halt. The door slid open, and Lightning moved to exit. Snow’s gloved hand shot out, clasping her bare shoulder tightly. He didn’t remove it, even as her eyes narrowed in a warning. Fine. She’d give him five more seconds, and then he’d lose the appendage at his elbow.

 _“Were_ you?” Snow asked, his voice tight. He met Lightning’s glare unflinchingly – she’d as good as lied to him about it, that night at the Sulyya Springs. That was something that Snow took very seriously. At this point, Lightning didn’t care that he felt betrayed. He didn’t really understand, anyway.

“Yep. Her and me. We were just the best of buddies for a while, wouldn’t you know. Things change, though. Too fast, for my tastes,” Fang’s voice was scathing, as she shoved her way past his wide shoulders and out into the darkness of the tower. Lightning closed her eyes, listening to the sound of Fang’s footsteps as they faded into silence.

 _That went worse than I’d imagined,_ she told herself with a sigh, before letting her gaze come to rest on Snow. _Five, Four, three, two-_

“Well…” Snow cleared his throat, releasing her shoulder with an awkward pat. “I, uh, guess that explains a lot of what’s been up with her. And you, for that matter.”

“You’re gonna pin her moronic behaviour on me?” Lightning’s eyes narrowed. Snow had some gall! Her fingers strayed to her dualweapon reflexively.

“Hey, quit it with the threatening gestures. I’m just callin’ it how it looks.” Snow rubbed the back of his neck, grimacing. Lightning relaxed her grip on the weapon. He had a point, even if it was as badly phrased as ever.

“But Fang… What did you _do,_ Sis?” His voice was blunt – perhaps his righteous indignation at having been lied gave him courage, Lightning noted, before deciding ignore his question. It was interesting to note the lengths that this idiot could go to, when he thought he was in the right. She’d have to remember that.

There was a long moment of silence, as they made their way out of the elevator. Snow was quiet and thoughtful for a change, which Lightning was grateful for. Her eyes scanned the dark tower for a sign of where Fang had vanished to. Nothing sprang immediately to mind, and Lightning cursed softly under her breath. The woman was gone, probably haring off after another cie’th. Fang’s reckless pursuit of battle, since arriving in the tower, had been nothing short of frustrating.

“Then, the other night when you were out on the Steppe…?” Snow asked softly, from where he stood behind her. Lightning even with her back to him, she could practically hear his grin in his voice.

“Yes,” Lightning said with a sharp nod, looking over her shoulder and meeting his eyes again. She supposed she owed Snow that much truth.

“…and after the juggernaut?” Snow added, squinting at her, still fighting that goofy grin.

“Snow.” Lightning didn’t bother to hide her irritation at his questions, this time.

“And while you were at Palumpolum?” Snow, intentionally or not, wasn’t getting the message – Lightning was neither comfortable with this guesswork, nor did she owe him full disclosure! Her private life was her own, not some idle bar gossip for him to entertain himself with. He might be free to pry with his foolish Team NORA, but things worked differently with her.

 _“Snow,”_ Lightning growled, and her hand strayed to her weapon again in a very blatant warning, one that she hoped that Snow would understand this time.

“Wow, that long? I wouldn’t have thought it of you, Sis.” Snow gave a low whistle and winked at her. Lightning felt her jaw clench in outrage. “Is that what you were doing with Fang, when we were at Hope’s place? Because I gotta say-”

“One more word out of your mouth, and I swear I’ll feed you to Dahaka, Serah be damned. Accidents can happen. Nobody would question it.”

Snow opened his mouth, and the daring look in his eyes told her that he was more than ready to test out her bluff – probably with another of his prying questions. Of course she wouldn’t kill him, but that was hardly the point.

Surprisingly though, Snow stayed silent, but that idiotic grin on his face spoke of a victory in a battle Lightning hadn’t realized she’d been participating in.

###

“But, I can’t help but notice you avoided the question before, Sis. What’d you do?” Snow asked, scratching the back of his head as they moved through the tower’s halls. Never in a million years would he have thought he’d be _here,_ trying to mediate whatever had gone wrong between Lightning and Fang.

The fact that they were in a relationship had been surprising – Snow had actually thought it’d be Fang and Vanille, rather than Sis. You learn something new everyday, right? Come to think of it, it actually explained a _lot._

Something had to have disturbed the peace between them, though, and it was really ripping at the seams of the party. Maybe if he knew something about it all, he could give Lightning a hand?

“Well,” Snow said, addressing Lightning’s lingering, frosty silence. There was really nothing for it. “You have to have done _something,_ because Fang’s mad at you, and since last night, you’re mad at her. So c’mon. What did you do?”

“Snow.” Lightning’s voice was icy and taut, and it was a warning that Snow usually would have heeded.

“Get as nasty as you like, but I’m not dropping this.” Snow knew that he sounded a lot braver than he actually felt. Lightning was almost akin to a force of nature when she was pissed off. Even so, heroes never backed down, no matter what the odds. Snow just hoped he survived to tell his tale of courage to Hope and Sazh…

“Fine.” Lightning halted in her relentless stride through Taejin’s Tower, but despite her answer, she didn’t bother to turn to face him. “It’s not like it matters now, anyway.”

Snow forced himself to wait. He was worried that if he spoke now, he’d put his foot in his mouth and muck everything up.

“Back at the Steppe, Fang came to the mistaken conclusion that I wanted a relationship. That we had time for a relationship.” Lightning still wasn’t facing him as she started to speak. Her voice was level and strictly controlled, almost analytical. Serah’d talked with him about all that – back before the whole l’Cie business, it had been one of those things about Lightning that had worried her the most.

Funny, the things you remember at the weirdest of times. Snow’s fingers tightened around the tear-shaped Eidolith. Other times? He wondered if it was Serah’s way of communication, even while in crystal stasis. He drew strength from the thought, choosing to believe it as truth.

Lightning turned back to Snow, drawing his attention again.

“When I told Fang otherwise, after the fight with the juggernaut, she… didn’t take it so well. But she has to understand.” Lightning’s eyes hardened, and she looked off into the darkness. “This is no time for meaningless romance. We have too much to deal with, without all of that to distract us.”

Snow stared at her, trying to reconcile his entire worldview with Lightning’s cold logic. No time for a relationship? She didn’t want a relationship? What? It could have been the hopeless romantic in him, but he was having a really difficult time getting her stance on this. If there was any time that love should be welcomed among l’Cie, it was when they were trying to stay positive! Anything, just to distract them from those stupid brands…

Doomed to crystal stasis or not, love was love in Snow’s book.

Then again… from what Serah had told him, Lightning had always been ruled by her head, rather than following her heart. Well. Except when she was really, really angry – what Vanille had mentioned about the Vile Peaks came to mind – or when she lost Serah. Alright, Snow mentally corrected himself, Lightning could be really spotty about when she chose to listen to her emotions.

Fact was, Snow reckoned that Lightning was making a mistake. The problems the breakup had caused within the party taking a backseat… When Snow suddenly looked back, his hindsight suddenly twenty-twenty, he knew that Lightning and Fang had made each other happy, for all their arguments and differences. How often did you get that kind of synergy, right off the bat? And the fact that it was _Lightning…_

The notion firmed in Snow’s mind. Lightning, even if she didn’t really get it, was making a huge mistake.

“Why don’t you say you’re sorry?” Snow asked, genuinely wanting to know the answer. He knew that Lightning had tried to patch things up the night before, so surely she did want things to be right between her and Fang. Right?

Lightning snorted in derision, though her stubborn-bitch expression looked a little uncertain for a moment. “Why should I? I’ve done nothing to apologize for.”

“If in doubt, apologize. It’s one of those relationship things that you’ll figure out,” Snow said, rolling his eyes. And Lightning reckoned he was the thick one. At least he knew that much about women and relationships. All he could think of, was Lebreau killing herself laughing at the idea of Snow being more woman-savvy than, well, _anyone._

“We aren’t in a relationship.” Lightning scowled at him, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

“But… you wanted to be.” Snow quickly raised a hand to forestall Lightning’s inevitable snarky retort. “Don’t give me that bull about focus and determination and all that. You can’t bullshit the bullshitter, right?”

“Save the drivel, Snow.” Lightning’s voice had the same old tightness and ice in it, as she turned her back on him. “In the meantime, I’m going to go and make sure she doesn’t get herself killed. In case you hadn’t noticed, I’ve picked up her trail.”

Snow squinted in the darkness, making out the dismembered remains of cie’th and robotics in the darkness. Well, if carnage and dead cie’th could be considered a trail and not a blinding beacon, sure. Whatever worked.

###

They followed the trail of dead cie’th at a run, quickly making up time that Fang would have wasted on taking down any creature in her path. Despite the quick pace, Lightning’s mind roiled with anger, outrage and vaguely savage thoughts of hurting both Fang and Snow. Snow was another one who wanted her to just cave in, Lightning had quickly realized while arguing with him before. Just like Vanille, he wanted Lightning to do whatever it took to make Fang happy, even if that meant rejecting what she knew was the right course of action.

Lightning refused to do that. Not for the reasons they kept putting forward, anyway.

She could sense Snow’s stamina start to flag by the time she caught a flash of blue silk in the dim light, coming from not far up ahead. With a low snarl of frustration, Lightning realized that Fang was fighting yet another cie’th. That was hardly a surprise, given the slaughter that had led them to Fang’s position. What made Lightning’s stomach clench was the sheer size of the beast Fang had decided to go and pick a fight with. Was the woman suicidal?

Lightning shifted her shoulders uncomfortably as they reached Fang’s position. Her fight with King Behemoth, back on the Steppe, had been completely different. That had been to distract herself from her own thoughts-

“Wondered when you two would show up,” Fang called out, not shifting her glare from the large cie’th she was circling. Lightning didn’t respond as she took her position at Fang’s side, motioning for Snow to follow suit. There would be no use letting the stubborn woman get herself killed on a whim. Lightning wasn’t sure she could handle Vanille’s pouting, if that happened.

Apparently, silence was not the answer Fang had been looking for, because Lightning noticed her green eyes flicker to her, and then quickly back to the cie’th.

“Know what, Snow? I think you’ll give this guy a run for his money in size, once you lot turn cie’th after all this.” Fang’s expression was nothing but a vicious snarl as she launched herself forwards, ignoring Snow’s shout of outrage. She managed to dodge over the cie’th’s haymaker, before bringing her spear in a wide arc to slash open the offending limb. Not even stopping to catch her breath, Fang pivoted and sent off a flurry of Ruin spells.

Lightning darted past Fang to continue to harry the monster. As she moved, Lightning signalled Snow over her shoulder, to remind him to make with his newly acquired Haste spell and give her a boost. The spell was warm as it suffused her, and time around her slowed to a crawl.

Over her shoulder, Lightning saw Snow finish casting his Haste spell, making sure that he’d follow it up as they’d agreed. She didn’t have to worry, she realized, as Snow began to sprint forwards, ice wreathing his fists. Lightning smiled tightly, satisfied, as she passed by Fang. Taking full advantage of her extra speed, she followed up her charge with a rapid combo of swipes and thunder spells that made the hair on the back of her neck tingle.

The cie’th seemed to have been a little dazed by her onslaught, and Lightning used her remaining momentum to launch herself backwards, to put distance between them again. As she passed by Fang again, Lightning’s eyebrows suddenly drew into a frown. Of course, the woman was attacking again, but the expression on her face was so feral and angry, and she seemed to be so focused on attacking as hard as she could.

It was vicious desperation, not unlike a cornered animal. It reeked of loss of control, or loss of awareness on everything except the battle. It made Lightning’s skin crawl.

Out of the corner of her eye, Lightning saw the cie’th move to counter Fang’s latest flurry of attacks. She kept her mouth shut as she cast a few aero spells in the cie’th direction – Fang knew how to fight. If anything, Fang would be offended by a warning, because she’d already be aware of it, she’d have expected it.

The moments seemed to crawl by, as Lightning landed at Snow’s side again. The cie’th was still moving, and Fang didn’t seem to have noticed it at all! Lightning’s shouted warning came crucial moments too late. The cie’th’s blow hit Fang squarely in the chest, smashing the woman into the stone wall of the tower – hard.

Lightning’s breath froze in her throat as Fang crumpled to the ground. It was only the knowledge that they were facing a dangerous enemy, that kept Lightning’s mind focused on the task at hand. The cie’th was no juggernaut, that was for sure, but that thing was stronger than it looked. Lightning clenched her teeth, shooting a furious look in Fang’s direction again. She could see blood trickling down Fang’s cheek now, could hear her coughing a little as she tried to get to her feet. She’d probably broken something.

 _Careless, reckless idiot!_ Nothing that a few cures wouldn’t fix, but it was the damn principle!

“Cover me!” Lightning ordered Snow, allowing herself to turn her full attention onto Fang now.

“You got it!” Snow all but laughed, and she had to wonder if his elation was only due to the thrill of the battle. No matter, because if she didn’t heal up Fang quickly, the stubborn woman was going to hurt herself more with her constant attempts to rise to her feet.

Lightning let cooling, healing magic arc from her fingertips and towards Fang. Eden, it doesn’t make sense at all! All this recklessness of Fang’s, the carelessness, or the wanton courting of danger – it wasn’t what she’d come to expect from someone as level-headed as Fang. While Fang had always been daring and willing to push her limits, she’d always known those limits and had acted accordingly. It was a blatant and extreme change in behaviour, and it could only mean-

Lightning’s stomach clenched as she turned her gaze back to the cie’th. It meant that in her selfishness, she’d missed something huge.

Sazh might very well have been right after all, with his hedging hints at a deeper, underlying cause to Fang’s sudden change in behaviour. While the break-up could have explained Fang’s moody behaviour, Lightning knew that a fighter like Fang would never have let it get to her in combat. She’d have known better!

Lightning’s will hardened, as she and Snow circled the cie’th. So. What had happened, to have shaken Fang’s self-awareness and commonsense so badly that _this_ was the result? She felt uneasy as she darted forwards again, driving the cie’th back with a mix of magic-enhanced strikes and raw spells. Back at the Palisades, Fang had implied that it had been about the breakup. That meant…

 _You’ve been deliberately leading me to false conclusions!_ Lightning thought in outrage, her fingers tightening on her weapon as she and Snow continued the battle. This whole mess reeked of betrayal, secrecy and lies.

The cie’th howled one last time, before falling into a broken heap. Lightning ignored Snow’s cheers of victory, not even bothering to sheathe her weapon as she turned sharply back to Fang. Fang met her eyes this time, looking trapped, frustrated and wary again. Snow’s whoops faded quickly as he followed the direction of Lightning’s gaze, and all they were left with was an awkward silence.

“Snow. Don’t interrupt us, unless I ask you to. Understand?” Lightning said, loudly and clearly. She watched Fang’s expression close over – the woman knew that something was up, then. Good. About time they were _both_ in the know, about whatever mess was going on.

Snow gave her a lazy salute. “Clear as crystal, Sis.”

Lightning just looked at him, her expression entirely blank.

He rubbed the back of his head, sheepish. “Okay, bad turn of phrase. _Perfectly clear,_ then.”

Lightning snorted, amused by his mistake. Her sense of humour evaporated as she turned her gaze back to Fang, and her mouth formed a hard line. She’d get to the bottom of whatever was going on with Fang, and no blatant redirection was going to stop her. Her fingers tightened on her dualweapon again as she braced herself.

“We need to talk.” Lightning kept her voice level and impassive, as she approached the other woman. _No backing down,_ she told herself firmly.

“Not happening. Got places to be, cie’th to kill,” Fang ground out, cracking her neck a few times as she climbed unsteadily to her feet, perhaps still a little disoriented from the blow and the curative magic.

“That’s nice. But it’s not a request.” Lightning lashed out, shoving Fang against the tower’s wall again. To her credit, Fang didn’t wince from the residual pain in her arm and ribs, though she did bare her teeth in what might have passed as a smile.

“Got the balls to follow that through?” Fang asked her in a low and mocking voice, that feral grin widening as Lightning leaned in. “Or are you all talk?”

“I’m sure Snow would take my side.” Lightning didn’t even deign Fang’s first question with an answer. Now that she knew what to look for, she could see the barbs, all designed to distract her, to throw her off the trail. “You’d be dealing with the two of us.”

“You think I can’t take you both? That’s cute, Lightning.” Fang’s expression had darkened, and her grin was no longer feral and mocking, but something a lot more dangerous. Fang could keep glaring like that until Cocoon fell, because Lightning wasn’t going to give it up this time.

“Your arrogance never fails to astound,” Lightning told her, still struggling to keep her voice even in spite of her growing anger. “But you’ve been playing me, haven’t you? This was never about us. This is about whatever is between you and Vanille, and the past.”

“Keep telling yourself that.” Fang’s green eyes were unflinching and unreadable, though, as she shoved Lightning back a step.

The more Lightning considered the possibility, the truer it began to feel. With this realization, all the missing pieces seemed to be falling into place. Why Fang’s anger had been so powerful, why she’d been pushing away not just Lightning, but the rest of the l’Cie as well. Even so, there was still some vital part of the equation missing! While Lightning felt used and lied to, it was the least of her concerns right now. That piece of the puzzle, it was the reason everything had fallen apart!

Her traitorous heart began to ache, then. _Would it have been as bad, had I not chosen to break up with her?_

“The Eidolon in the fissure, this suicidal behaviour of yours, Vanille’s fears-” Lightning cut herself off, scowling. It was making too much sense, now. “It’s all connected. Why don’t you just talk to me?”

Fang’s expression was bitter as she sheathed her polearm in the straps on her back, and her voice was casual, uncaring.

“The time for talking is gone. We’ve got a Focus to defeat, or have you forgotten that already?” Fang laughed then, hollow and humourless. “Just raring to become a cie’th, I see. Well. I won’t hesitate in cutting you down when you turn. Don’t forget that.”

It was a stinging reminder of what Lightning had said to Serah, in the days leading up to the Purge. It’s my job to hunt you down. Those words still haunted her to this day, and had she not been given reason to hope, they might have destroyed her entirely. Was she willing to just let Fang say those things, knowing the regret and pain they caused?

 _Not a chance._

“There you go again. It’s been so obvious. You’re actually trying to push us away.” Lightning’s voice was still low, but she knew her anger was getting through to Fang because the woman had started to flinch. That was a small miracle, there. “But why? Just trying to martyr yourself, Fang? Or is it something else? What the hell are you hiding?”

There was no warning. There was just a feral roar as Fang lashed out at Lightning with her fists, not even seeming to care about strategy, technique or the massive strength behind her blows – after the initial backhand to her face, Lightning dodged and ducked and countered all of Fang’s wild strikes – hard. She gave no mercy, just the way Fang had given her none that night on the Steppe.

Just as Lightning noticed Snow begin to edge over, looking alarmed and ready to break up the brutal scuffle, Fang broke away. Her breath was coming hard, blood was trickling down from her nose and lips and she was sporting a growing range of bruises. Lightning didn’t relax her guard, though her cheek – hit by Fang’s first backhand – was beginning to numb.

It was just as Lightning had predicted. Fang’s technique had been sloppy, and Lightning wasn’t sure how she should feel about the validation of her theories. There really was something wrong, because those massive holes and blatant mistakes weren’t things that Fang would stand for. Not the Fang that Lightning had come to know.

“Ready to talk?” Lightning asked Fang, and she was a little surprised at how breathless her own voice sounded.

“Go screw yourself, Farron.” Fang straightened, her eyes blazing with anger, and blood still trickling down her chin. With that, Fang stalked off into the darkness again before Lightning could move to intercept her. Lightning allowed her to leave, her mind working silently as she appraised the increasingly gnarled situation she’d found herself in. Let Fang run, it would only give Lightning time to regroup and reconsider her approach.

Snow, behind her, gave a low whistle. “She’s pretty mad, huh?”

That was true enough. Back before the Focus, she’d refused to listen to Serah’s problems and story. She could have prevented this entire fiasco by just taking the time to listen and consider the feelings of everyone around her! That failing, that short-sightedness continued to dog her footsteps, but she wasn’t going to stand for this any longer.

This time, things were going to be different. Fang wasn’t going to become just another regret, another lost opportunity. But what, exactly, was she supposed to do for a woman who didn’t want her help?

“Tch. This… this is just the start.” Lightning straightened, jerking her head to motion for him to follow her lead. The top of the tower wasn’t far. “I’m not going to drop this.”

As she turned away and led the way onwards, she thought she caught a flash of an approving grin.

###

The air atop Taejin’s Tower was clean and cold. Fang closed her eyes as the wind stirred her hair and whipped her sari about, letting it wash away the tornado of anger, hurt and fear inside her. She let out a long breath. Her resolve, as needed as it was, had come so close to breaking. She’d started to crack under the pressure of Lightning’s relentless questions, but she’d escaped.

Even so, she knew that running was only going to be a momentary solution to the issue, and a traitorous voice in her heart whispered taunts about courage and running. Now, she waited, and every heartbeat they lingered was like sandpaper on her raw nerves. Every second she was in Lightning’s presence, the closer she’d come to breaking point.

“It doesn’t have to be this way. I know it’s not what you want.”

Fang gave a start at the voice and sudden contact, looking down at where Vanille had rested her head against her shoulder. So wrapped up in her own grim thoughts, she’d not heard her sister approach. Fang snorted softly to herself – a fine hunter she was.

She shot a quick look, over to where Sazh and Hope waited.

“No…” Fang agreed, quietly, always unable to lie to Vanille. “It’s not what I want.”

It was a relief to admit it, to someone she knew would be on her side. Fang loathed all this underhanded manipulation. She hated that it was _necessary._

“But, you know. Things in life aren’t always easy. Sometimes, you have to make the tough choices, to protect the ones you love.” Fang searched Vanille’s face, for a hint of what her sister was thinking. She felt Vanille squeeze her arm reassuringly, and the action put her on edge immediately.

“What if they don’t want to be protected like this? Fang…” Vanille trailed off, sighing as she stared down at her clasped hands. She seemed apprehensive.

“Well. In that case, they’ve got little choice in the matter.” Fang’s voice was falsely light as she shook Vanille’s shoulder to catch her attention again. She had to make Vanille understand – there was going to be no backing away from her choice. More, she needed Vanille on her side for this!

If not… Her stomach seemed to be filled with lead, as she considered the bleak future before her.

“Lightning and the rest, they don’t understand what they’re digging for.” Fang told Vanille, making sure Vanille knew how serious she felt about this. “It’s my past, and I’ll do as I damn-well please with it.”

“But it’s not _just_ about you, anymore. This isn’t just your Focus, or about Gran Pulse. It’s about them too! They’re part of our Focus, and they deserve to know the truth.” Vanille took a breath, as if to brace herself. “You said they were family, but then you go and push them away at the first sign of trouble! You can’t carry this burden alone… I tried, and it nearly destroyed me.”

Fang watched Vanille wordlessly, fear creeping up her spine like ice. Vanille took her silence for what it was.

“…If you aren’t going to tell Lightning what’s going on, then I am.”

So. She’d been right. That was what this whole little song and dance had been gearing towards – an ultimatum that could tear the party apart and ruin her chance to save them all. Fang had to stop it, and she didn’t care how.

That traitor’s voice inside her reminded her – always so sure she and she alone knew what was best, that she would save people from themselves no matter the cost –

She silenced the voice.

“You wouldn’t dare.” Fang did not drop her hard gaze from Vanille’s, and she took a step closer to take advantage of her extra height.

Vanille, however, actually met her gaze levelly and steadily. “Just try me, Fang.”

“You could barely tell me what I did, let alone going and blabbing to everyone else!”

“This is different, and you know it!” Vanille hissed back, rounding on Fang.

“And when they realize, they’ll shun me. Is that want you want? Do you want to hurt me that way?” Had Vanille even thought this through, aside from catering to this bleeding-heart tendency of hers? Fang doubted it. Fang doubted that Vanille had even considered what kind of impact such a revelation might make on Fang, on the entire group dynamic.

Her head began to ache.

 _You’re meant to be on my side, Vanille…_

“You don’t know that for sure! They could help you!” Vanille frowned, and she impulsively leaned forward and wrapped her arms around Fang’s shoulders.

Fang laughed harshly, prying herself free from Vanille’s grasp. Vanille, who was meant to support her, who was meant to help her – had decided to side against her. Whatever, Fang could handle that. She’d handled that before, right? Memories of Taejin’s Tower, five hundred years ago, was a vivid suckerpunch that stole her breath.

She shook herself,

“Yeah. Right.” Her words were bitter, coming out in a quiet, angry rush. “I don’t need to give any of them another reason to loathe me.”

“She doesn’t hate you!” Vanille said, staring at the ground. “She’s just… worried that it’s going to distract her and make things worse. Maybe, after the Focus…”

Fang cursed and stalked away from Vanille, back towards where the party waited on them. Yet more of that idiotic, brain-dead ‘defeat the Focus’ bullshit? That was the last thing that would put Fang’s mind at rest, and the absolute last thing she wanted to hear at that moment. Defeat their Focus? If they tried that, then there was nothing that awaited them but eternity as a cie’th.

Sometimes, it seemed like she was the only one who understood the stakes. Out of the corner of her eye, Fang saw a flash of red and white, followed by dirty grey. Her stomach clenched, and her lips formed a hard line.

 _Well. Look who finally decided to catch up._

###

Lightning and Snow arrived at the top of Taejin’s Tower, to find the rest of the l’Cie awaiting their arrival. Sazh waved, Hope twitched to alertness, but it was Fang who drew Lightning’s attention. Oddly enough, the woman wasn’t standing anywhere near her clingy sister. Lightning’s gaze flickered between the two Pulsians for a moment, considering. Had they fought just now? Vanille looked upset, and Fang simply looked tired. Worried. Withered.

Lightning murmured her next orders to Snow, only half-aware of what she was saying. She didn’t wait for his answering grin, as she started to make her purposeful way towards Fang’s location.

 _How could I have missed it, all this time? Why did it take me so damn long?_ Lightning knew the answer, as much as it rankled. She’d been self-absorbed, inattentive and easily-goaded. In the pressure-cooker situation that they’d been in, she’d lost all control and Fang had been able to play her for a fool. In that, she’d failed Fang.

It ended here, though.

Fang’s eyes tracked her progression across the tower top’s expanse, before shrugging nonchalantly. Lightning fell into pace beside her, as Fang began to make a beeline for the next half of the broken tower. A quick glance behind her, reassured Lightning that the other l’Cie weren’t listening too intently. She closed her eyes for a moment, bracing herself a little. Good. Then there was only one thing left to do, and that was to make the jump.

“You and me,” Lightning said against the wind, trying to catch Fang’s eye as they walked. “We need to have a serious talk.”

Fang ignored her. Lightning’s jaw clenched as frustration welled up inside her, nearly choking out the concern. Fang’s stubbornness over this issue was going to drive her mad, but Lightning refused to relent as she kept pace with the other woman.

“You can’t hide forever,” Lightning growled out, louder this time, and she reached out to take hold of Fang’s shoulder. The crystallized brand felt cold and rough under her fingertips, but she pushed away her awareness of it, tightening her grip as Fang tried to shove her way out. “Fang.”

Lightning hated how her voice betrayed her, the name coming out almost like a plea. But she needed Fang to stop, to talk to her. It was the only way she could understand why Fang would have lied to her like she had.

Still caught in Lightning’s bruising grasp, Fang hesitated, her anger seeming to wilt. Her green eyes flickered over to Lightning’s, just for an instant, before looking upwards.

“Light, this isn’t about you, and you don’t get it-”

“So help me get it,” Lightning cut in, relaxing her grip, her fingers skimming the braided warrior’s band. She closed her eyes, trying to keep her mind from wandering. “Let me in. Fang, I was always your friend.”

She made a small, bitter sound in her throat, her hand dropping from Fang’s bicep and back to her side.

“Even if I’m nothing else, that’s always going to be the same. It always was.”

Fang’s eyes were narrowed as she sharply pivoted to face Lightning, but the woman still looked torn, lingering somewhere between shoving Lightning away and admitting everything. Lightning’s stomach seemed to drop, and she clenched her hand into a useless fist. It wasn’t that Fang didn’t want to talk to her, Lightning realized, as Fang sighed. For some reason, Fang felt like she couldn’t.

The realization made her heart ache. All Lightning had achieved, with this masochistic crusade, was to hurt herself. She’d hurt Fang, too, right when the woman had been desperately needing her support.

Lightning wasn’t wrong in her stance. She refused to concede that, by being with Fang, she wouldn’t become distracted at a crucial moment. Seeing the results, and looking back over the last three days… Lightning could no longer claim that it was _right._

Snow shouted from somewhere behind them, and Lightning heard the rush of air and the grind of a thousand metal gears against crystal as the fal’Cie Dahaka finally swept into view. She heard the thud of rapid footsteps as her fellow l’Cie rushed forward. Lightning didn’t move her gaze from Fang’s, her jaw tightening. She’d been close, she was so certain of it! The fal’Cie couldn’t be bigger pains in the asses if they tried.

Fang looked away first, her face closing off again as she drew her bladed lance from the straps on her back.

“Quit your staring, and look at that asshole.” Fang shot her a challenging look, one that seemed a little out of place, now that Lightning knew something was different. “You gotta take him down first. Reckon you can?”

Lightning snorted, drawing her blazefire saber and slipping into her defensive stance in a single, smooth movement. She didn’t take her eyes from Fang’s back, and she took a slow breath.

“I intend to,” she told Fang, her voice low, as the others joined them. “After I beat his ass to Cocoon and back, it’ll be your turn.”

“You are such a _sweetheart.”_ Fang laughed at her then, but all of her prior harshness seemed to have been worn away. She looked weary and resigned, as she dropped into her battle stance.

Lightning couldn’t bear to hear the resignation in Fang’s voice, so unlike the usual smugness she’d come to associate with the other woman. Her eyes tracked Dahaka’s erratic flight through the clouds above Taejin’s Tower, attempting to focus on the task at hand.

“It’s acting strange, though,” Lightning noted, slowly edging closer, feeling Hope and Sazh begin to work their buffing magic. The rest of the l’Cie fanned out beside her, with reactions ranging from hope to outright dread. Perhaps this angry Pulsian fal’Cie would be the last barrier to Oerba, but with their luck, Lightning doubted it.

“He must be weak from losing his tail!” Fang remarked, not looking around as she eased herself forwards, all fluid confidence. Whatever her false fronts, Fang’s apparent eagerness to court death was something that Lightning would have watch out for.

“Yeah? Looks plenty feisty to me!” From his place at Lightning’s side, Snow cracked his knuckles. The feral grin on his face seemed to suggest that a fight with Dahaka would suit his purposes just fine. Ever the hothead, Lightning noted with a small sigh.

“He’s bluffing to scare us off,” Hope said, sounding exasperated. “Let’s go with that! Come on! We can do this!”

###

Fang was running for Dahaka long before Lightning gave the signal to attack, every fibre of her body seeming to zero in on the Pulsian fal’Cie. Monsters, cie’th, robotic militia – none of them had given her the sense of inner peace she’d desired. Just like so many years before, desperate fighting hadn’t worked, and all it left her with was aching muscles and a head still full of burning memories.

A Pulsian fal’Cie, however? That was a challenge. Her lips pulled back harshly as she snarled, launching a few Ruin spells, before she shot forwards again.

She had to feel circuitry and crystal shatter-

 _-beneath her claws as the opposing Eidolon died before Ragnarok._

The memory was too vivid, all the hated sights and smells and sensations flooding her mind. Fang flinched, just for a moment, and Hope’s Blizzard spell whizzed past her to impact on the fal’Cie’s side. Dahaka seemed to ignore the spell as if it were naught more than a breath of air, drawing back to attack the l’Cie with its remaining segments.

Why the hell did anyone else care, anyway? Fang was running for Dahaka again, as if she could outrun her thoughts and fears. Vanille had made her intentions clear. She was going to betray Fang’s secrets to the others, and Lightning, _Lightning_ had no goddamn clue what she was on about, what the hell gave that woman the right to barge in and-

 _Make me think you actually care._

Everything became knotted and confused, when Lightning stepped into the picture. Lightning cared for Fang, then she didn’t, but then she changed her mind so that she cared again – all this turnabout was going to do Fang’s head in.

 _Just ignore it. It means little, in the end. She cares, she doesn’t, she’s still going to go cie’th if you don’t do something to stop it._

Dahaka swept in, and in her distraction, Fang badly mistimed her dodge. If not for Lightning's hasty thunder spell to knock it off-course, she might have been swept clean off the tower, Fang realized. Fang’s breath sounded ragged in her ears, both from her running battle and her relief, as she forced herself forwards. She shoved her way, past where Sazh was setting up protective shields and on onwards, to take advantage of the status spells Vanille was showering over the fal’Cie.

Losing her focus, Fang knew, had been a stupid mistake. Didn’t mean a thing, and Lightning had no goddamn right to look so worried, neither did Vanille –

“Change of strategy!” Lightning called, as Dahaka drew back again to make a second sweep of the tower top.

Fang just ignored the order, turning back to the fal’Cie and letting a low growl escape her throat. Even in the best of her moods, she rarely listened to Lightning’s battle plans and pain-staking formations. Now, as she was? Fang would just do as she always preferred – to hit things with as much force as she could manage.

She set her stance, throwing off a few stray Ruins, and all but ready to charge Dahaka once more, when that stupid lug Snow managed to stumble into her path. Fang’s breath caught, and she hesitated, precious seconds slipping away from her. The moment to strike Dahaka was quickly gone, and Fang’s barely-hidden rage began to bubble dangerously. Fang’s jaw clenched as Snow stumbled out of the way again, but it was far too late for that-

In the few seconds it took for Snow to move, something seized at the back of her sari and hauled her away from battle. Fang caught a glimpse of white and red out of the corner of her eye, even as she slipped from Lightning’s grasp again.

“Didn’t you hear me?” Lightning demanded, her voice low but clear over the sound of whirring magic and gunshots. Fang caught the odd scent of roses and gunpowder, both cursing and enjoying Lightning’s closeness. “I want you to defend.”

Fang, her eyes still on the raging battle with Dahaka, merely scoffed at Lightning’s order. She wavered, somewhere between simply ignoring the orders, and outright defying them.

“Fang. I need you to watch my back. Please.” Lightning’s voice was softer now, almost begging. It wasn’t the tone that surprised her – it was the gentleness of the request that made Fang finally meet Lightning’s eyes again, made her nod robotically and accept Lightning’s order, made the harsh, confrontational words die in her throat.

Fine. She could do this, if it was what Lightning wanted. Fang smiled bitterly, settling back into a defensive stance and drawing Dahaka’s wrath with a well-placed taunt.

###

The fight, after the initial confusion and disorganization, had been surprisingly short and brutal. Dahaka had fallen, and the party was still whole, if exhausted and sore. Victorious, Lightning sheathed her weapon, wiped the sweat from her forehead, and made her way over to where Fang was picking herself up from off the ground. With a dismissive shrug, she ignored the looks she garnered from the others.

Snow and Vanille knew, Sazh suspected and Hope was oblivious. Let them all think as they pleased.

Fang wasn’t hurt badly. Regardless, Lightning helped her to her feet quickly, and allowed Fang to continue to lean on her for support. From the frown creasing Fang’s eyebrows, she’d caught wind of Lightning’s ruse. Fang was no fool, after all.

They began to make their way back towards the party, and in spite of the worry and endless emotional turmoil rushing around in her head, she savoured the warmth and sensation of Fang’s body. Lightning closed her eyes, wishing that things had played out differently.

She wished that she’d never listened to herself. All this pretence had done was to hurt them both.

Lightning hesitated, then. She’d asked Fang to defend against Dahaka, to prevent Fang’s confrontational manner from getting her killed. As a result, Fang had gotten injured. It was nothing Vanille wouldn’t be glad to fix, but there were some things that Lightning needed to do, for herself. Lightning cooling curative magic flow from her fingertips, a silent way of making amends for asking so much of the woman, for nothing in return.

After a moment, Fang’s expression softened, and her ability to stand became a little surer. Despite the fact that the pain would be gone, Fang continued to lean up against Lightning, one arm slung across Lightning’s shoulders and her lips so close to Lightning’s ear that she couldn’t help but twitch. The proximity was nothing short of intoxicating, and she had to shake her head slightly to remind herself to focus.

“…Oerba.” Fang’s voice was so soft against Lightning’s ear, that Lightning almost didn’t catch it. “We’ll talk tonight. At Oerba. I’ll tell you everything. Will you wait with the questions ‘til then?”

The concession was halting and forced. How hard must it have been for Fang, to allow even that? Lightning thought back, to that night on the Steppe. She had to persevere. Fang needed her to stay strong, just like Fang had been for her, back then. Lightning nodded in agreement, squeezing the hand of the arm Fang had slung around her shoulders, before letting it go and pushing herself free.

“Oerba, then.”

It wasn’t far to go, now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It should be noted that the character’s thoughts/stances are not my own – such as Snow’s views on relationships, and I find Fang’s deception in this chapter to be absolutely disgusting (they’re the product of an irrational and desperate mind).
> 
> Not sure when the next update will be, as life has been either crazy or draining or both at once.


	8. Oerba

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They’ve finally made it to Oerba, but things are still not okay between Lightning and Fang. Fang’s been hiding the shadow of Ragnarok and a vital piece of her past, and it’s dragging her down. Time’s running out for the rest of the l’Cie, and Fang refuses to see them go cie’th.

The journey down from Taejin's heights was grim and uncomfortable, and that feeling had only grown as the group had passed through the crystal-dusted hills. The silence as they descended into the township was eerie, because unlike the rest of Pulse, Oerba had not continued on. There was no life, and none of the greenery that Lightning had expected from Vanille's wistful recollections. All that remained was the movement of cie'th as they flitted through the rusted and wrecked buildings around them. 

Metal creaked in the wind, and Lightning tilted her head back to stare at the rusted windmill. She released a long breath, but felt no less uneasy. One last effort, she'd told herself, and they'd get to Oerba. Once they were there, then they could rest. So long as they made it to Oerba, they'd be able to do the impossible. 

Now that they were here, Lightning felt her heart grow heavy. Anyone that could have helped them was long dead. Perhaps it was from the war, maybe it was by the fal'Cie. Eden, they could have even been destroyed by cie'th. The how didn't matter, anyway – she supposed she'd known that there would be no miracle cure, but the tangible goal had kept them going. 

_What now?_ Lightning could feel the question twisting in her mind, read it in Hope's face, in the way Sazh's shoulders had slumped, and in the tightness around Snow's eyes. She had no answers to give them.

From behind her, she heard the scuff of sandals and boots on the ruined concrete, and knew that the town's last inhabitants were taking in its empty shell. Lightning looked toward Fang, letting the glance linger for a half a moment. Fang had her arm around Vanille's shoulders, and she was saying something to her sister that Lightning couldn't catch. Fang's grip on Vanille's arm seemed gentle and reassuring, and all might have seemed well, but for the raw anguish in the woman's eyes and the set to her jaw. 

Lightning looked away again, feeling like an intruder. A useless intruder, Lightning amended with a silent sigh. Fang and Vanille's home had been wiped out, their families lost, their world destroyed. Back before Palumpolum, Lightning had thought she'd lost Serah, and that pain had driven her to a near-suicidal desperation. To lose Bodhum, her home, her life, all in what must have seemed an instant…

The bitter, cynical part of Lightning's mind reminded her that if the group didn't pull off a miracle soon, she'd find out first-hand what Fang was feeling. 

She stood by, silent as Sazh and Snow gave the orders for the group to explore the ghost town. By the time she looked around for Fang again, the woman was gone. Lightning fought her first impulse, to seek Fang out and demand the answers to all her questions, but she'd stand by the promise she'd made Fang up on Taejin's Tower. 

Time and space, Lightning reminded herself as she nodded to something Vanille told her. She'd get her answers tonight.

###

In Fang's mind, it hadn't felt like five hundred years could have just up and passed her by. She supposed that up on Cocoon it had been easy to fool herself, that the world above was just alien, not because time had slipped through her fingers. Even when she'd finally made it home to Gran Pulse, she'd tried not to think of how things had changed. The calmness and natural law of the land had been a familiar comfort, even if everything else had screamed wrongness.

She'd always been good at lying to herself, at spinning the truth to ease the pain in her heart a little, and the past week had been no exception.

In Oerba, there was no escape from the truth. There, in the very room she'd slept in as a child, Fang was anything but calm and her head began to hurt. Everything was still there, just the way she remembered it, and yet everything was _gone_ and she was the only one to blame for it. She swallowed, feeling hot and frozen and ill all at once.

Silent, Fang made a slow circuit of the achingly familiar room. There was that heap-of-junk robot Vanille had always carted around, the worn pots and pans used for cooking. Over in the corner was where Fang had argued with Vanille over who exactly owned the top bunk-bed, and out the window, she could see where she'd tripped and broken her arm. 

Memories wailed for her attention, and Fang couldn't bring herself to examine them all with the care they deserved. After all the pain, all the betrayal – Fang feared that if she looked too hard, she'd shatter and then what good would she be to anyone? 

Fang knelt by the window, her fingers brushing over a photo frame that could have fallen off the windowsill one year ago or five hundred. The glass was broken, the frame bent and cracked and showing signs of rust. The picture itself was faded, dry and fragile under her fingertips as she carefully brushed aside the crystal dust and glass. 

Her gaze sharpened as she took in the image of two girls on Oerba's beach. Fang scarcely recognised Vanille, in all her unabashed delight just being alive. If not for the lance and sari, Fang would have barely recognised herself. 

Back then, back before the war with Cocoon had hit its stride, things had been simple. Black and white, with nothing but herself and Vanille to consider. Things had changed quickly as the war had raged, moving from 'right' and 'wrong' to simply 'do' or 'die'. With the event of the Focus, Fang's desires had ceased to matter.

What was wrong with her? Fang knew that she was letting her past best her, but even her happiest memories of Oerba were starting to get lost in the filth and blood.

The past was no comfort any more, and the future was dark. The present wasn't exactly a walk along the beach, either. 

_It was never supposed to have ended up this way._

Fang's hold on the picture frame tightened, the warped metal digging into the palms of her hands as she stared into the hazy distance. Fang was never supposed to have scarred Cocoon, was never supposed to have slept in stasis, to have let _everything_ get between her and Vanille. She shouldn't have woken up at all. She was never supposed to have fallen in love with a woman who would not love her back. 

_How did things get so complicated?_

Fang caught a flash of white and red from over by the shore, and her mouth tightened. The fight atop Taejin's Tower loomed as yet another shadow in her mind, and Fang exhaled sharply. One moment of heady closeness and Fang's resolve had predictably broken. 

In the instant she'd promised Lightning the truth, she'd been so certain. Now, she wasn't even sure what she hoped to achieve by confessing all of her well-intentioned sins. 

Etro, there was nothing to be done for the situation! Was it the judgement that she craved, or simply the defiance? Fang's mouth twisted, and she traced Lightning and Hope's movements along the beach. Maybe Fang needed to see the respect fade from Lightning's eyes, for the strange affection they'd developed between themselves to sour and finally die. Maybe then Fang would finally have the guts to do what was needed. 

Fang heard Snow slowly climbing the stairs up to the room, and she placed the old photograph on the shelving with a sigh. Her thoughts were scattered as he entered the room, and Fang tried to cast aside the black mood she'd found herself in. Today though, she had no time for Snow's rhetoric, well-meaning as she knew that it was.

As Fang made to push her way past Snow, he jerked to awareness. Snow seemed surprised by her presence, as if he hadn't even noticed her before now. He quickly regained his composure, but it was nowhere near fast enough. Fang hesitated, halfway out the door. In that one instant of unguarded honestly, she'd seen the stark worry in his eyes, and that was quite possibly more frightening than fighting Dahaka. 

"Fang," Snow said, looking around the room with what seemed now to be a forced interest, no matter how casual he sounded. “What's up? Didn't uh... didn't expect to find you up here.”

Fang was silent for a moment, observing him carefully as he moved to stand by the window. Had Fang not seen his worry for herself, she'd never have believed it had been there at all. 

"Are you..." Fang hesitated again, suddenly feeling uncertain, her eyes flicking down to his exposed wrist and then up to his face just as quickly. The sight of the sprawling brand that spidered over his skin made her feel physically ill. "Are you all right?"

"Sure am." 

Somehow, Snow was still smiling. He knew how bad his brand was. She'd seen it in his eyes that he knew Oerba was the end of the line! How could he pretend that everything was going to be okay? It was all so tragically ludicrous that she almost wondered if Snow's whole goal _was_ to martyr himself in a futile stand-off with the fal'Cie. 

Her bitterness surged forth anew, and Fang turned away from him. The problem was, judging by the brand on his wrist...

_You don't have long. None of you Cocoon fools do._

They were out of options, and Fang wasn't sure she could survive losing her family one more time. 

Cocoon hung in its ancient orbit above them, the possibilities weighing heavily on Fang's mind. It was like the whole damn planet was waiting for the hammer to strike, as if it knew that Fang was half a decision away from tearing it down. 

Barthandelus' words still stuck in her mind, plaguing her with doubts and whispered assurances that she could fix it all.

Without another word, Fang left Snow alone in her old home.

Fang would keep her word to Lightning, though. After that... Etro knew that it was time for Fang to take matters into her own hands and strike against the Cocoon fal'Cie. By the end of the night, Orphan would be dead, and her family would be saved.

The decision gave her no joy, because she knew they'd never forgive her for it. 

###

Lightning and Hope found Snow in a run down building overlooking the wrecked Oerba beach. His hands were shoved deeply in his pockets as he stared out the window at the afternoon sky, and for once he seemed quiet. It seemed that Snow hadn't had luck finding a cure or a hint or anything either.

_What now?_

Snow turned around as she made their presence known, and he smiled as they approached. Hope made his way over to stand next to Snow, while Lightning contented herself with leaning against the wall nearby.

"You ever seen anything like this?" Snow asked, gesturing to the ruined township below them. "A week ago, who'd have figured we'd be on Pulse, rediscovering a lost past like this? It's one for the books, that's for sure."

Hope swallowed audibly, looking ill again. His fist kept clenching and unclenching, as if against a phantom pain. 

"I thought, if we could make it this far..." Lightning saw Hope wet his lips, saw him rub the brand through the handkerchief compulsively. "We'd find something. Anything. I can't..."

Lightning looked off to the side, unsure of what she could do at this point and hating herself for it. Hope could go cie'th, right there in the room, and she didn't even have a word of comfort to help stave it off. Eden, her own brand felt like it was strangling her, constricting her chest with every breath. It felt hot to the touch, and the fal'Cie magic felt like a thunder spell at her fingertips as she touched it through her sweater.

There was nothing here. Lightning felt like she would break under the weight of her own fear and despair, of lashing out and just giving in. Everything had been for nothing. With an effort, she kept her face impassive, forced her riot of emotions to obey. She couldn't voice her despair, not with everyone hanging on the brink. It had been an unspoken promise between herself and Snow, ever since Palumpolum. Keep everyone's hopes up. Get them to work towards a goal, no matter how insane that goal was. 

Snow smiled, and though it looked strained, Lightning knew it was genuine. "Point is, kid, we don't know what tomorrow's gonna bring us. So, we keep looking, keep walking. That's all it takes."

Lightning made a small sound in her throat, torn between exasperation and a strange sense of approval. She supposed the same old denial was better than the sense of hollow pointlessness that had descended upon the group as the ghost town had swallowed them up. 

As Lightning, Hope and Snow joined up with Sazh and Vanille in one of the old buildings they'd secured, Lightning felt little better about the whole situation. She lingered at the back of the room, watching Hope and Snow join Sazh and Vanille but feeling unable to join them. A quick scan of the dusty room told her that Fang was yet to see fit to rejoin the group, and Lightning exhaled slowly.

It felt like an eternity since Lightning had even looked at Fang properly, without the same old fear that had all but strangled her since they'd arrived on Gran Pulse. Lingering awkwardness aside, Lightning no longer felt it necessary to deny the attraction she had with the other woman. 

One wrong move tonight, and she could destroy whatever she had left with Fang. Did she really want to risk it all on a 'maybe'? Lightning knew that she could take no further action, and she was just as certain that Fang would allow it. Perhaps things would remain in stasis as an uncertain truce was struck between them. 

Lightning didn't want the truce, though. She hadn't come all this way simply to give up at the end.

 _More time would be nice,_ Lightning told herself, watching the sombre interaction of the other l'Cie. _But this thing with Fang is hardly going to wait, and I know that tomorrow will be just as bad for me as today._

Lightning wet her lips, trying to ignore the steady rawness of the brand again. There was so little time left, and Lightning knew that she'd never have another chance to make amends with the other woman. She couldn't let Fang become another regret in her past, another missed opportunity to help the ones she cared for. She had to do this – not just to help Fang, but for herself. 

_No more backing down, or hiding from what I want._

As the Pulsian sun finally began to set, Lightning quietly slipped away from the group and began to search. No matter what happened between them, no matter what Fang had to say, this whole mess was going to be done with by morning.

###

Lightning spent the better part of an hour scouring Oerba for Fang. The moonlight stained the deserted town in an eerie silver, and things that might have been cie'th or shadows flitted in the corner of her eye. Lightning had kept her weapon at hand while she searched, and her feeling of unease only grew stronger as the night had deepened. Being here at all felt like they'd cracked open a tomb to plunder the contents.

She wasn't sure what had finally drawn her attention to the shadowed interior of the old school building, but as she neared, she heard the scuff of shoes on concrete and the clink of bangles.

 _Bingo._ Lightning hesitated, her eyes narrowed and apprehension beginning to rear its ugly head. She relaxed her shoulders then, trying to allow the tension in her chest to simply bleed away.

 _Grow the hell up,_ she told herself, before remarking aloud, "So this is where you've been hiding yourself." 

Lightning stepped into the darkened building carefully and she could feel Fang nearby, could hear the sound of breathing over the movement of water. If she closed her eyes, she supposed it reminded her a little of Bodhum on a quiet night and less like an open grave.

"Hiding? Is that what you kids call it these days?" Fang sounded weary, her voice seeming to come from somewhere to Lightning's left. 

Lightning's senses zeroed in, but she couldn't see anything but a faint outline, slumped low on the old staircase. Close, then. Closer than Lightning had allowed herself to get for the better part of a week.

"You did promise me an explanation," Lightning told her, pointedly steering the topic onwards. 

Fang sighed, and the stairs creaked as she shifted. "That I did."

Fang didn't seem inclined to answer just yet – if ever – and the growing silence only became more uncomfortable. Lightning tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her stomach - it was as if Fang no longer cared. That was perhaps the outcome Lightning had dreaded the most – that it would be too late to salvage whatever it was that they'd once had, and that things were too far gone to ever be the same. 

"I'm not leaving until I get my answers."

Fang snorted, telling Lightning exactly what the woman thought of that particular ultimatum. "What if I've up and changed my mind?" 

Lightning couldn't tell if the woman was serious or not, but she was not going to take any chances. 

"You know that's not good enough, Fang," Lightning said, carefully controlling her tone. Too harsh, and Fang would freeze over. Too friendly, and she might as well give in now. 

"Calling the shots now, are we?" Fang laughed, and it still sounded so strained. There were a few beats of silence, and Lightning waited. "...that's just like you. You've got no idea what you're asking, but you'll demand it all anyhow. Cocoon-bred, through and through."

Lightning wasn't sure if that was meant to be an insult, or if it was some sort of backhanded compliment. Knowing Fang, it could well be both. 

"You keep making this about me," Lightning told her, her frustration mounting in spite of her best efforts. She pinched the bridge of her nose and took a steadying breath. "This isn't about me. I need you to try to talk to me, because this? Keeping whatever it is all to yourself is bringing you nothing but pain, and I-" Lightning cut herself off stubbornly. _I can't stand watching it any more,_ she added silently, and she heard Fang suck in a deep breath.

"I realise, you living up there in your fal'Cie paradise..." Fang's voice was deceptively mild, like the calm before a storm. Lightning tensed. "You don't get it, much as I wish that you would." 

"Fang..." 

"And I know that you'll never really get it, not until you-" Fang cut off, muttering a few choice curses under her breath before she continued. "I miss it. All of it. This was my home, in all of its run-down glory and it's nothing but a shell, now." 

There was something building in Fang's voice. It was an edge of anger and anguish that was fast slipping free of the mask of stoicism that Fang had tried so hard to maintain over the past few days.

Lightning wanted to reach out to her, but right now, she was unsure how Fang would react. Would the woman flinch away, or perhaps lash out? Lightning didn't know any more. Fang had been hurting so badly, and Lightning had actively turned a blind eye to it all. Lightning's jaw tightened, and she felt a rawness begin in her throat. 

She could feel the tension bleeding off Fang, now, but there was nothing she could do for the woman but wait. The silence stretched into minutes, and it was just as Lightning had resolved to gently prompt Fang again that she heard Fang take another unsteady breath. 

"And you know what, Farron?" Fang's voice was harsh and wavering, as if it was taking all of her effort just to grind the words out from between her clenched teeth. "I've only myself to blame for this whole thing."

 _Let her get to the point,_ Lightning told herself, her lips compressed in a flat line. _Don't interrupt. But Eden, where is this going?_

"For one stupid moment, I thought I could save everything. Thought I could _have_ everything. Just like you lot." Barely restrained anger made Fang's words shake, made her breath come in short, ragged bursts. "Because of that, Oerba is destroyed, Gran Pulse is... _this,_ and the whole sorry mess with Anima began again. I gambled everything on myself and I lost. Do you even get how that feels?"

Lightning held steady even as her mind struggled to make sense of everything Fang was telling her. 

"What did you do?" The words left Lightning's mouth before she stopped to think. Lightning didn't dare regret them now, because she needed to know. Without that information, she couldn't even begin to understand what drove Fang like this, let alone begin to help her.

 _If you can help her._ The thought was grim and practical and very much not the way Lightning wanted to approach the issue. 

"I was Ragnarok, for Vanille. All those years ago, in trying to wipe our your world, I wiped out my own. Feel free to hate me for being the bogeyman of Cocoon lore. It's not gonna change anything, now."

 _Well._ Lightning took a long breath, reeling on the inside and desperately trying not to react badly. _That was not what I expected._

What the hell was she supposed to do about this? Lightning felt as if time had slowed, but every shaky breath she delayed her reaction would be another nail in... what, exactly? Lightning knew she had to react, to say something.

_No more time to plan. Just go with how you feel, and hope to the fal'Cie you don't make things worse._

###

There was no reaction from the other woman, and the darkness seemed to make the silence all the more damning. Fang's worst fears had been proven right, but she'd expected more fireworks than this. Fang ran a shaky hand through her hair, caught halfway between laughing hysterically and simply lashing out. Fang had had enough of Lightning's bizarre mix of apathy and passion – the woman seemed absolutely indifferent toward Fang's own feelings and yet she would support Snow's misguided goals and rhetoric.

Fang had to wonder if it was really possible to hate someone with such intensity and care for them so deeply all at once, or if she was simply going mad. It was Lightning's fault that it had even come to this, Fang told herself angrily, and the sooner this was tied up, the better. 

"I was Ragnarok. Weren't you even listening?" Fang snapped, her emotions reaching a fever-pitch as she tried to get some sort of proper reaction out of Lightning. Her brand hurt so badly, like cracks were growing in the crystal and spidering out into flesh and bone. 

Fang hated that her hands felt like they were were shaking – how could she be afraid now, after all she'd vowed and all she'd lost?

"I heard you." Lightning's voice was level and steady. It was as almost as if Fang hadn't just confided her darkest secret. "You were Ragnarok. So what?"

"So _what?_ You're just going to dismiss my past like it-" Fang cut herself off, incredulous fury wiping all rational thought for a few moments as she struggled to process exactly what Lightning had just said to her. To say that Ragnarok _did not matter_ was a lie and an insult. Any fool could look around and see what the beast had done to Gran Pulse. Any idiot looking hard enough could see how Ragnarok and everything leading up to it had shaped Fang herself.

"Not exactly. But what you did in the past..." Lightning sounded like she was struggling in deciding whatever bullheaded line she was going to feed Fang next. Good. 

"You don't understand. You don't get anything!" Fang threw it out as an accusation, wondering if her words made Lightning flinch. At this point though, Fang felt unable to do anything but let all of her anger, bitterness and seething hatred take control. 

"I only know what you've decided to tell me!" Lightning's voice sounded tight, maybe a little frustrated now. "You and Vanille with your damn secrets – what did you expect? That I would somehow read your mind and just know what was going on?" 

"Because it's none of your business," Fang snapped, rising to her feet. "This is my issue and-"

"It's not just your issue," Lightning said, crossing the darkened space between them before Fang could react. Lightning placed a firm but gentle hand on Fang's shoulder, and the touch seemed was at odds with the steely defensiveness in her voice. "What concerns you, concerns _us._ If Ragnarok and your past is what's been hurting you so much, then..."

They were meant to be like family. That's what Fang had said to Vanille, back at the fissure. That had been what Fang had been trying to tell herself all this time. They were family, and it killed her to hurt them all like this. On the flip side, Fang wouldn't be able to live with herself if she just up and lost them to the fal'Cie. It was a choice between one pain and another. Nobody understood that, not even Vanille. 

"Just leave me be," Fang told Lightning, unable to stomach dealing with it all. Lightning had gotten what she'd wanted. The truth had been told, and it had been far from uplifting. 

"Why push us away? The springs, the tower... it's all been one great act of manipulation." Lightning sounded disappointed, maybe a little hurt. Fang still couldn't bring herself to look at Lightning, or to answer the accusation Lightning had laid at her feet. It was true, yes, but it was another thing entirely to just up and admit to it. 

The tense silence stretched onwards, and Fang's jaw clenched stubbornly. Finally, Lightning exhaled, long and low. 

"...you're scared, then. We can't hurt you if you hurt us first. Is that it?" Lightning didn't sound angry, and it made all the recriminations seem more real, more personal. They were no longer something she could just dismiss as insults hurled in the heat of the argument. It made Fang feel more tired than she'd been in years, and she could no longer keep up with the lie. 

"And what if it is?" Fang asked, fingers trailing absent patterns on the step she sat on, listening with every fibre of her being and dreading everything all the same. 

Lightning made a small, disbelieving sound in her throat. "Why?"

Why, indeed. Because they were from Cocoon. Because there was no real reason for them to stand by her. Because she deserved it. 

"Because I can't imagine it going any other way," Fang finally said. It was a struggle to keep her voice level, but somehow Fang managed to keep the emotion from straying into her voice and crippling her ability to make her point. "I can't even forgive myself, let alone think about what it's going to take for you lot to do it, too."

"Fang-"

"Maybe it's something else, too," Fang continued, mercilessly cutting across whatever argument Lightning was about to make. "Maybe I just want to save you lot the pain of my betrayal when I say 'shove the miracle bullshit'. Maybe I don't want you all to be hurt when I turn Ragnarok again to save your arses."

Some vague part of Fang's mind likened her behaviour to that of a cornered behemoth, but she wasn't even sure she knew how to stop. It was all Lightning's damn fault anyway. Why couldn't she have just left well-enough alone?

"Fang, shut up and listen -"

 _"No."_ Fang knocked Lightning's hand from her shoulder and she shoved Lightning back, hard against the wall. She could feel her blood pounding in her ears and every nerve felt like a livewire buried under her skin. She could feel Lightning's startled breath on her cheek, and aside from half a moment on top of Taejin's Tower, it was the closest she'd been to Lightning since the subterra. 

Fang sensed Lightning's body go rigid – was she finally getting in under the soldier's prized control? 

"You lot have blinded yourselves to the truth," Fang told Lightning, keeping her voice low and harsh and hoping that somehow she'd finally get the point across. "There is nothing that's going to save you from ending up like those cie'th out there. You can kick and you can scream all you like, but it won't change anything in the end. I know that from personal experience. Don't you get it? It has to be me, now." 

Fang swallowed her unhappiness and self-loathing, her heart still pounding and her anger slowing to a simmer again. She clenched her jaw and gripped Lightning's shoulder, hoping that maybe Lightning wouldn't feel the tremble that had begun in her hands. 

"Because you won't save yourselves. Not you, not Vanille, not Snow and you've taken Hope and Sazh along for the ride. You'll all die, I'm going to be alone. That's why I have to do it. Ragnarok must rise, and Cocoon's gotta fall. That's the way it is." Fang took a deep, unsteady breath, and pushed away from Lightning to slump again on the steps, suddenly feeling as if she hadn't slept in a week. 

"You're all so fucking selfish," Fang murmured, folding her arms around her knees and wishing it would all just go away. There was a moment of silence that lasted a few heartbeats too long, and then there was a sigh.

"Are you done?" Lightning asked, her voice flat and unforgiving. Fang's head snapped up, her anger beginning to bubble unsteadily again. Lightning had said she wanted to understand what Fang's issue was. Now that she knew, she just up and dismissed it? 

"Selfish it might be, but who died and made you the Primarch?" Lightning demanded, and Fang wished she could read Lightning's expression. "What gives _you_ the right to decide our fate for us?"

Fang laughed, unbelieving and resigned all at once. Even now, even after she'd made it clear, Lightning was still doing this? She had to hate and admire that valley-wide stubborn streak.

"It’s my job to make the hard calls," Fang snapped, her hands reflexively clenching into fists, and she rose to her feet unsteadily again. "Quit getting in my way, because like it or not, this is how the dice have landed. You made your choice, and I've made mine. You don't get the right to strip that from me."

Lightning advanced, and it felt like the woman was unbearably close now. 

"Then quit your whining and do it already," Lightning told her, and Fang blinked in mild surprise. "Get on with it. I’m going to be right here, waiting to stop you. I can’t let you just do this to yourself. Or to the world."

It was just as Fang had predicted back at the Palisades. Of course Lightning would try to stop her plan – knowing it in advance certainly didn't make it easier, though. Her brand felt unbearable, searing into her mind and the edge of pain spurred her on. 

"You think you can take me, when I get serious?" Fang feigned a chuckle, lashing out and seizing Lightning's open collar. Fang drew her close and up, forcing the other woman off balance as she growled by Lightning's ear, "You really think you can take Ragnarok?"

Lightning didn't flinch, and if Fang wasn't close enough to feel how unsteady her breathing was, she might have been fooled into thinking Lightning was perfectly calm.

"You really think I won’t try?" Lightning asked, and the answer was obvious. Of course she’d try. She wouldn’t be Lightning bloody Farron if she didn’t try, but Fang realised with a jolt that she hadn't even drawn her weapon. Fang had made blatant threats against Lightning, and still Lightning hadn't moved to defend herself.

_Etro. Why?_

Lightning was either very stupid, or very certain of herself – certain of Fang, and certain that Fang was not going to hurt her. It was suddenly very difficult to breathe, to think through the pounding on blood in her ears.

 _You choose to trust me tonight?_ Fang made a noise in throat that could have been a scoff or a sob and loosened her hold on Lightning's collar. The fire in her brand had eased and all but winked out, and she shook her head violently. This wasn't going to plan, Lightning wasn't supposed to make her feel like _this._ Lightning wasn't supposed to trust her! Hurting Lightning wasn't what she wanted, for all her anger and despair. 

She couldn't do it, Fang realised with an abrupt clarity. Her weakness had done it again and rendered her unable to do what was needed. Fang loathed and loved Lightning all at once with a sudden intensity, and it was almost more than she could bear.

"See that? You won’t do it. You won't hurt me." Unbelievably, Lightning hadn't moved away, and Fang allowed herself to be pulled into the other woman's arms. It felt awkward and hesitant, and Lightning was no expert in hugs, but it was close and it was enough. 

Fang drew a shaky breath, momentarily lulled by the sent of roses and battle and Lightning. 

"Don’t underestimate me. I depopulated a whole _world,"_ Fang insisted, but the fight had fled her. She heard Lightning sigh and felt a gentle hand press against the small of her back. 

"You don’t even know that’s for sure," Lightning argued – the fact that she was even arguing the point gave Fang an odd sense of comfort. _"Think._ All you remember is failing to take down Cocoon! You know that the Gran Pulse fal’Cie were in on this Door to Light bullshit. Who’s to say that the War of Transgression was not the last war they started? Picking off the survivors with impossible, vague or meaningless Focuses would have been far too easy."

The cie’th stones that Snow seemed so hellbent on helping out loomed in Fang's mind, but she shook her head, too stubborn to believe it. 

"It's so easy for you to say all this. You’re on the outside, looking in."

Lightning made a small sound before disentangling herself from the hug. She stayed close, though. "The rest of us ceased to be 'on the outside' when we got the Ragnarok Focus. We're your family, Fang."

"...that's the problem," Fang said softly. She leaned against the wall, crossing her arms against her chest. Everything she'd hidden, every weakness she'd been so ashamed seemed to be bleeding out. "I can't – I don't think I can go through it again. I _won't_ go through it again." Fang shook her head and ran her fingers restlessly through her hair. 

Now, more than ever, time always seemed to flee from her, and the good times slipped away until there was nothing but hollowness and misery. 

"Fang."

Fang raised her head, studying Lightning's outline. She could make the other woman out a little better, now, but it wasn't enough. 

"It doesn’t have to be that way. You’re not alone, you’ve gotta understand that." Fang heard Lightning sigh. "I know what you did in the past, I _accept_ that. Eden, I might have done the same thing too! In a war like that… who could blame you for losing hope? But we think we have a choice, and we’ve got to hold onto that or we're going to lose to them. I’ll ask you, one last time. Please. Stand with us."

Fang wanted to open her mouth and shout down the delusion. She wanted to scream that they were _wrong,_ that they were just making it all worse, that there was nothing to be gained. 

"I need you with us, not against us. Not for group unity or for the Focus or -" Lightning hesitated, as if trying to order her thoughts. Fang heard Lightning's head thump back against the wooden wall gently, heard her take a steadying breath. "Point is, I want it for me. I want you with me at the end. I want us to face it together."

It all made Fang's head ache unbearably, made her throat raw with creeping anguish. Damn Lightning.

"…you just have to go and do it, don't you? Every _single_ time." Fang's voice was shaking and she couldn't hold it back any more, and she slammed her fist into the old wooden wall behind her. She wiped her eyes with a curse. "I find my resolve to do whatever it takes, and then you saunter in and make my convictions turn to dust. Why the hell do you keep doing this to me? How _can_ you do this, building my hope when there is nothing in the future?"

"I'm sorry." Lightning sure as hell didn't seem sorry, Fang noted. "But I can’t stand by and let someone I love hurt themselves. Even if they have some serious obsession with becoming a martyr." Lightning's voice became a little wry, then, and Fang had to laugh at the blatant hypocrisy. 

"You're one to talk. Snow really made a true believer out of you, huh?" Fang's humour faded quickly though, and for a while they were silent, listening to the movement of water beneath the old school room. 

Fang shivered slightly from the cold, wrapping her arms around herself tighter. Lightning had said... Fang almost didn't dare to hope. Maybe she misunderstood Lightning's meaning, but if there was a chance that things could be resolved between them, then Fang was taking it whole-heartedly because there wasn't enough time for uncertainty now.

"But..." Fang murmured. "That was a real odd way to say 'I love you'. Could that have been any more backhanded?"

Lightning made a sound that Fang chose to interpret as a small laugh, and Fang heard the wall behind her creak as Lightning leaned next to her. 

"Think what you want. The sentiment still stands," Lightning told her softly, and a part of Fang's stomach seemed to unclench at the open admission of affection. No tricks, no grudging qualifiers, no hesitation. It felt good, it felt _normal._ Things almost felt all right between them now, but it didn't blind Fang to the troubles that would only grow worse tomorrow. 

"Why now? Why tell me this, at the very end?" 

"I… I don’t want you to become another one of my regrets. Because at the rate things are going…" Lightning faltered then, and in the dark Fang could hear her swallow loudly. 

_So much wasted time._ Fang looked down at her hands and felt them clench into fists. The _damn_ brands. It felt like she was going to lose Lightning just as soon as she'd gained her. Fang clenched her jaw, the old bitterness roaring back like a bonfire. Etro, but she’d never hated the fal’Cie quite so much as at this moment.

Lightning pushed off from the wall again, and Fang's eyes tracked the pale blur in the darkness. Lightning seemed to debate something, muttering something underneath her breath, before she leaned in close. Lightning haltingly reached out, placing a cool hand against Fang's cheek. The touch was light at first, as if Lightning had been convinced that Fang would have rejected the gesture, but it quickly became more certain as Fang allowed herself to lean into it. 

"I know I’ve been giving off some conflicting signals." Lightning's voice was still low, low enough that Fang had to focus her attention but she was close enough that Fang could feel warm breath on her neck. She blinked, trying to remember how to breathe.

"No kidding," Fang heard herself reply, and then she silently cursed herself for failing to come up with something more witty. _'No kidding'? Really?_ Lightning hadn't seemed to mind, though, because the mood hadn't been broken and she hadn't pulled away. 

"Then I hope this clarifies my position."

Lightning's fingers caught in Fang's sari, tugging her down and closer and with a sudden fierceness, Lightning claimed her lips in a kiss. The kiss was breathless, sweet and more than slightly awkward, but it was also warming and humanising and everything that Fang had needed. Fang unsuccessfully tried to stifle a whimper, and she threaded her fingers through Lightning's hair and over her skin.

Lightning pulled away far too soon for Fang's liking, bracing herself against the wall with an arm that seemed a little too unsteady but still pressed close. Fang closed her eyes, suddenly feeling very warm despite the chill in the air, and she let her hand trail lazily down Lightning's side to rest on her hip. Fang's lips quirked in a smile as she felt Lightning shiver at the touch.

"Better?" Lightning asked, still sounding out of breath and hoarse and _eager._

Fang hesitated. There were still other things to talk about – of Ragnarok and Fang's plan just to get them started – but Fang's breath caught a little as Lightning's lips brushed the side of her neck, teasing and _Etro_ the way the Lightning had pressed up against her made the message clear. How long had this been on Lightning's mind? They'd only just made up, barely survived the last week and already the boundaries of their relationship were being pushed.

Fang felt a thrill go through her. She couldn't say she minded, but it was too much, too fast and she really didn't want to screw this up -

Lightning's teeth scraped along Fang's lower lip, and Fang couldn't help the unsteady moan slip free. Lightning wanted everything, all of Fang, despite Ragnarok and her failure and everything she'd done to push them all away this past week. The pent up fierceness, the buried lust, the relief and the affection all bubbled free and Fang was helpless to stop it. She didn't want to stop it, either, and losing control the way Lightning seemed to want seemed like a wonderful idea. 

Lightning wanted everything? Fang could give her that, and intended to take everything in return. Lightning didn't seem worried by the full onslaught of Fang's long-dormant lust – if anything she seemed to thrive under it, grow more confident in her touches and her kisses. There was no sign of an end any time soon, and from the feel of Lightning's warm body, pliant against her own, Lightning didn't _want_ to stop. 

Fang had to ask, though. She had to be certain. Fang pulled back, breathless and hot, enjoying the way Lightning's lips trailed across the hollow of her throat, loving the way Lightning's fingers ran along the arch of Fang's spine. 

"You’re really certain of this?" Fang asked, her fingers tracing lazily through Lightning's spikes. 

"Yeah," Lightning replied, pushing Fang's sari down over her shoulder to emphasise her point. Ragnarok and Orphan could wait until tomorrow, Fang decided, and she kissed Lightning again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So finally the story can move along, now that these two have... kissed and made up, so to speak. My apologies again for the delay in posting this chapter – sometimes I forget that I'm only writing fanfiction and not high art, that imperfections are okay and that I really shouldn't stress about it. 
> 
> Fortunately, now that The Big Misunderstanding Caused By Unreliable Narrators and Why Can't They Read Minds Gawd is over, I can move things along.


	9. Eden

Fang woke up the next morning with a crick in her neck and a sore shoulder from having slept on the floorboards. She cracked her neck and rolled her shoulders, before frowning down at the light blanket that had been draped over her. She'd be damned if she could remember where the thing had actually come from, only that it was there. Fang clapped a weary palm over her aching eyes as the morning light rudely continued to stream in through the old classroom's windows. While it felt like she'd slept better than she had in the whole week prior, she still felt like she'd been trampled by a herd of angry Pulsian chocobos.  
   
Her mind slowly began to grind into action as she propped herself up on her elbows, and her lips twitched into a smirk as she thought of the prior night's activities. This time yesterday, she wouldn't have dreamed their little chat would have ended positively, let alone waking up naked and feeling more satisfied than she'd been in weeks.  
   
Fang tilted her head back, loathe to linger on the past _right now,_ because the feeling in her stomach was so warm and fuzzy and content. There was, however, a decided lack of Lightning from the picture. The blankets beside Fang were empty and with a creeping coldness that she was helpless to stop, she had to wonder if Lightning had high-tailed it out of there while Fang had been sleeping. Was Lightning really reconsidering her actions of the night before? That was a bloody record, then.  
   
The blankets were still warm though, and still smelled of Lightning. Fang let her eyes drift closed for a moment as she let herself get lost in it, until she heard the water splash outside the old schoolroom. Wrapping the blankets about herself to ward off the morning chill, Fang lurched to her feet and certainly didn't creep toward the door and staircase as she went to investigate.  
   
A smile flickered across Fang's face as she leaned out the doorway and glanced down the stairs. Well, it looked as though she'd found Lightning. Fang leaned against the door frame with a loud thump to announce her presence, and she watched Lightning pause in her motions. It was nothing she hadn't seen before – seen, touched or tasted, Fang amended silently with a wicked smile – but the sight was even more incredible in the morning light. Fang's eyes tracked the small marks left down the side of Lightning's jaw and neck, wondering for a moment if they would show above that high-necked sweater of hers.  
   
Fang's eyes tracked downward, inevitably falling on the l'Cie mark marring Lightning's skin. It stood out like a tattoo that did not belong, and the very sight it made Fang's chest tighten in growing panic.  
   
"I'm surprised to see you up this early," Lightning said, and the sound of her voice – so normal and level – did wonders to snap Fang out of her fear.  
   
"Ha. Perhaps miracles really do happen, after all," Fang replied with a drawl, crossing her arms over her chest and watching Lightning submerge herself fully under the water for a moment. "Bodes well for you lot. I suppose I had a little incentive, when I couldn't find you."  
   
Lightning didn't respond as she shook the water out of her eyes, but the silence wasn't cold or uncomfortable, not like it had been for so much of the week gone by. Even so, Fang couldn't let it rest, not when that mark was still so vivid against Lightning's skin.  
   
"Washing away all the evidence, huh?" Fang slowly descended a few steps, feeling a tenseness in her stomach loosen as Lightning turned and simply raised an eyebrow.  
   
"Maybe I am." Lightning didn't seem bothered by Fang's half-arsed accusation though, and Fang would have been fine with simply turning around and napping for another half hour, but something still stood out in her mind, something that Lightning had said – that time was running out and that she wanted to make the most of the time left.  
   
"Mind if I join you, then?" Fang asked quietly, yawning once for good measure and running her fingers through her sleep-mussed hair.  
   
"Go ahead."  
   
Fang didn't need to be told twice, and she left the warm blankets in a pile on the staircase. Trying to ignore the chill of the morning air on her bare skin, Fang stepped into the water and fought not to cringe. It felt like _ice,_ and Fang was not a big fan of the whole freezing-cold-baths insanity that possessed some people. Loath to admit that to Lightning – soft, Cocoon-coddled _Lightning_ – Fang waded out toward the other woman, her arms wrapped tightly around herself and glaring balefully at the back of Lightning's head.  
   
"How the hell can you stand this?" Fang finally forced out from between her clenched teeth, her pride be damned.  
   
Lightning didn't even do Fang the favour of looking around. "I like to think of it as 'refreshing'."  
   
Fang's eyes narrowed further as she continued to wade toward the other woman. Lightning was doing it on purpose, wasn't she?  
   
"Only someone from Cocoon would get so into the technicalities. What is your skin made of? Iron? Is that what Cocoon's fal'Cie are doing these days?" Fang snorted loudly, resting her cheek on Lightning's wet and cold shoulder and resting her hand on the curve of Lightning's hip. Etro, but her skin was only slightly better than the ice bath around her!  
   
"You didn't seem to be complaining last night," Lightning said, turning around and catching Fang's lips in a soft kiss. Fang let herself melt a little into the sensation of Lightning's warm mouth and body, lazily enjoying the way Lightning's arms wrapped around her neck and trailed down to each of her shoulders. Fang felt Lightning's tongue move against her lower lip, just for an instant, and then –  
   
Lightning's grip turned to steel around Fang's shoulders, and it all happened in a tangle of limbs and the sound of crashing water as Fang was knocked off balance and back into the freezing water. Fang surfaced with an outraged gasp, flinging her wet hair out of her eyes and damn lucky not to have choked on half a litre of water from her shock.  
   
"Oh _no_ you didn't," Fang ground out, bristling at the joke and shivering from the cold as she watched Lightning wade over to her. Fang had half a mind to launch herself at the other woman and _really_ show her who was boss – then Fang paused. Lightning was smiling at her, laughing, and the expression was open and honest. The frustrated and angry words on Fang's lips died out, and Fang felt an answering smile tug at the corners of her mouth.  
   
Instead of lashing out and wasting time being angry, Fang closed the small distance between them and wrapped her arms around Lightning, pressing her back until she felt the partially submerged wooden wall hit Lightning's back. Fang pressed her lips against Lightning's, letting her kiss be soft and teasing at first as she let her hands trail down the length of Lightning's spine. She felt Lightning shiver at the touch, heard her breath catch slightly and felt her fingers wrap more firmly in Fang's tangled hair.  
   
Fang ran a lazy hand down the back and inside of Lightning's thigh, suddenly feeling very warm despite her dunk in the freezing water and the feeling that her teeth were about to start chattering.  
   
"You want to go again?" Lightning asked softly, her lips moving against the corner of Fang's jaw in a way that made it hard to focus on the task at hand.  
   
"You mentioned that you didn't want to waste time." Fang drew back a little, her eyes flickering down to the l'Cie mark on Lightning's chest. She brushed her fingers over it even as the hair on the back of her neck seemed to stand on end. Sprawling, veined and with red eye that could flicker open in the space between one breath and the next. It was hot to the touch and raised like a new scab. Fang felt her panic and despair surge to the forefront of her mind, and she swallowed hard.  
   
"So it's that bad." Lightning's breath was a little unsteady even if her voice was suspiciously even. Come to think of it, she _had_ been strangely calm this whole morning, and now Fang supposed she knew why. "Tell me. How do you know?"  
   
Fang felt Lightning shiver as she let her thumb brush over the l'Cie mark again, and Fang let out a short and bitter laugh. How much longer? Etro only knew sometimes.  
   
"I'm no expert-" Fang paused, her fingers still tracing the raised outline of the mark. No expert for sure, because her memories were sometimes vivid and sometimes slipped away. Even so, she and Vanille were the closest the others _had._ "There are thirteen stages. All pretty separate, and they... mark the spread. This... this is twelfth stage, like what I've seen of Sazh's, Snow's and Hope's. Vanille is a little different, because she's been doing all she can to slow the progression. And mine... like I said. It's a bit of a screwball of a situation for me."  
   
Fang watched Lightning digest that information, and then drew a long and hypothetically calming breath. She hated to ruin the pleasantness of the situation, she really did, but seeing the mark and knowing its implications only brought it further home that she had to do something about Orphan.  
   
"You know that Ragnarok is the best way to tackle the issue, Light," Fang said, letting her forehead thump against the weathered old boards over Lightning's shoulder. She felt Lightning tense a little, hating that it happened but she knew that some sort of resolution had to be reached between them! She couldn't go on in this state of limbo any longer, and she couldn't live with the fear that she'd lose them.  
   
"We don't know that at all, Fang," Lightning told Fang, her voice a little sharp but she wasn't pulling away. Fang's mood soured regardless, and she untangled herself from Lightning's arms.  
   
"What's your plan, then?" Fang demanded, meeting Lightning's eyes forcefully and letting it be an open challenge. Things hadn't changed. Things never changed. Lightning looked away first, and she tilted her head to stare up at Cocoon. Did she feel the mounting pressure like Fang did?  
   
"I know you think it's hopeless, but..." Lightning smiled slightly, looking back down and returning Fang's gaze squarely. "Give me a bit longer. A few hours. Just long enough to be sure there's no other way..."  
   
"How much surer do you even need to be?" Fang asked, entirely unconvinced by Lightning's determination to cut it right down to the wire. She didn't like this, and it felt like it was hanging over her.  
   
"I'd say I'd rather die than take out Cocoon, but I doubt that's the answer you're looking for." Lightning pushed her wet bangs out of her eyes, sighing as her head thumped back against the boards behind her. "The last moment, then. Hold off until there is nothing else we can do, nothing left that will save us. And only then."  
   
"You'd let me save you? You'd let me do what I have to do?" Fang pressed, moving closer. It felt like a victory of sorts.  
   
"Eden." Lightning pinched the bridge of her nose, looking stressed and wearied by the conversation already. "I don't want to say yes, and you know that."  
   
"And you know that I'm serious."  
   
"I wish you weren't." Lightning didn't smile, and finally relented, even if she looked unhappy about having to make their bargain explicit. "Fine. But our agreement holds, Fang. You don't make a move until I say so. Is that clear?"  
   
It was a poorer bargain Fang wanted, because the sight of Lightning's brand felt like it was burned into her mind's eye. Then there was Vanille, who couldn't fight fate forever, and Snow, Sazh and Hope... Fang didn't want to agree, she wanted to argue and keep arguing for something better, because what if she lost them? Lightning seemed so blastedly confident though, and Fang felt herself relent.  
   
"Deal." Fang hated herself for making the compromise, but she knew that their agreement had to stand. Lightning smiled, looking a little relieved that, and all Fang hoped was that she wouldn't live to regret this bargain. With a sigh, she climbed out of the water and began to dry herself off.  
 

###

 

Not long after their reluctant agreement, Fang and Lightning began to make their way back to where the others had camped. Fang kept easy pace at Lightning's side, shooting the occasional sideways glance at Lightning's profile as she wondered what sort of crackpot excuse they'd feed the others this time. Then again, Lightning looked far more at ease with herself than she had following their night on the Archylte Steppe, so maybe Lightning didn't intend on hiding it at all.  
   
Fang felt her lips curve into a smile and she felt a little warmer. Good, then. They entered the building without a further word, and with a nod in Fang's direction, Lightning moved to where Snow, Hope and Sazh were sitting in the corner of the room. Fang watched Lightning greet them in a fairly good-natured fashion, still seeming more relaxed and positive than she'd been in... well, ever. Fang crossed her arms, her smile becoming a little crooked.  
   
Vanille made a bee-line for where Fang lingered in the doorway, and Fang barely got out a 'g'morning' before Vanille had grabbed her wrist and had dragged her off into the far corner. As they finally reached a safe distance from the others, Vanille allowed them to come to a stop. Narrowing her eyes at Fang, Vanille tilted her head a little and crossed her arms, as if she was simply waiting for Fang to give in and start confessing. 

Feeling a little amused by the whole thing, Fang leaned forward and mussed with the red pigtails, and Vanille finally laughed. Things felt so much better already, despite Fang's better judgement. She wondered, then, how long it could all last. The thought was sobering, and her smile faded.  
   
"You told her," Vanille finally decided, and while she sounded relieved, she still seemed a little worried. "And it looks like it worked out okay."  
   
"I can hardly believe it myself." Fang sighed. She glanced over to where Snow was elbowing Lightning in the ribs for some reason, idly wondering if Lightning's good mood would save Snow a right drubbing. "I wasn't expecting that. Or everything else, mind you."  
   
"Everything else?" Vanille squinted at her again, an eyebrow raised.  
   
"Hm." Fang tapped her cheek thoughtfully. "I suppose if you go ahead and make the same kind of assumptions as you did that morning out on the Steppe..." Fang's smile grew again as she spread her hands. "Let's just say you'd be dead on."  
   
Vanille's eyes widened a little in surprise. "I wouldn't have thought you'd have managed that, not after how terrible you both have been. I _swear,_ Fang."  
   
Fang laughed shortly, but didn't bother deny Vanille's claims. "For once, it wasn't my idea. Like I said. Unexpected, but I am really not complaining here."  
   
"But what else happened?" Vanille's circled Fang for a moment, frowning as she tried to take in every angle, almost as if she was trying to find some sort of evidence of Fang's wrongdoing. "Your mood has really changed. I know you love _it_ but it's never made you..." Vanille waved her hands vaguely, before she sighed and blew her unruly bangs out of her eyes. "Well, _happy_ like this."  
   
Vanille was right, of course. Fang felt more content and at ease than she had in a very long time, and it had all been thanks to whatever had gone on between her and Lightning the night prior. Fang considered it more carefully – back in the War, no matter how much comfort Fang had drawn from physical intimacy, it had never changed anything. While Fang couldn't say Lightning had changed her mind, her worry had been eased somewhat. Maybe the same old desperation that had dogged her since the subterra had lifted a little with her acceptance of Lightning's staunch faith in her. Maybe it was that Lightning _agreed_ – even if buried under conditions.  
   
It felt like a new lease of life, and everything didn't feel so hopeless.  
   
"What if it was just that good?" Fang asked idly, studying her fingernails with a teasing smirk.  
   
Vanille slapped Fang's forearm arm with a huff, even if she still laughed a little at Fang's comments. "If you're making jokes about it, she really _did_ manage to work a miracle." Vanille suddenly looked up and out the window, toward where Cocoon hung in the sky. Waiting. "Maybe... Maybe we can pull of another before the day is out."  
   
Fang was quiet as she crossed her arms in front of her chest, because the reminder of how stark the situation was, no matter how well-intentioned Vanille's words had been, was enough to sour her mood. Vanille looked at her in askance, and Fang slowly sighed.  
   
"She..." Fang wet her lips, her mouth suddenly dry. "I told her what I wanted to do, and why." She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, feeling the same fear and righteous anger as she had the night before. "She wouldn't let me. Wouldn't let me go through with it. Said I'd have to go through her, first."  
   
"Good." Vanille nodded approvingly, and Fang scowled at her.  
   
"This morning, I managed to get her to agree to a compromise. Of sorts." At Vanille's questioning look, Fang elaborated. "She said that if it all looked hopeless... that I could do it. That I could save you all in the only way I know how."  
   
Fang felt her old anguish stir like old sediment at the bottom of a lake, and she wondered again how she managed to get herself stuck in the same situation, time after time. While she hated her seeming familiarity with the whole thing, she couldn’t deny that there was a certain comfort in knowing that she had what it took to turn Ragnarok and fulfil the Focus, even if it was only barely enough to save them all. Vanille, however, looked completely appalled by the bargain.  
   
"But – Fang, _why?_ Why would she let you?"  
   
"It's not up to me, you see." Fang laughed, and it sounded hollow to her own ears. She hated this part of the bargain, no matter how much Lightning made her _want_ to believe. "Bargain was, that I'd have to wait until she gives the word. No sooner, no later."  
   
Vanille looked a little relieved, and Fang snorted softly to herself as she shot another look over her shoulder, to where Lightning was now eating with the rest of the l'Cie. Sazh waved her over, gesturing to the remainder of the food left and letting her know that she had a share, and Fang nodded to him. She turned back to Vanille, her mouth twisting.  
   
"I'm not so sure that she _will,_ you know," Fang told Vanille, her voice flat.  
   
"Will what?"  
   
"Say the word." It was hard for Fang to ignore the creeping feeling of paranoia about the topic, and she took a steadying breath. "Etro, I'm scared for you all and I can't help but think that she _will_ turn cie'th before she lets me save you all."  
   
Fang shot another glance over her shoulder, taking in the lines of Lightning's body, appreciating and fearing all at the same time. Lightning still looked so happy. A part of Fang's mind whispered _'delusional',_ while another part remembered the strange euphoria that some l'Cie suffered before losing everything. Fang's stomach twisted miserably, and she looked back into Vanille's worried eyes.  
   
"I'm sorry, Vanille," Fang said softly, and she caught Vanille's hand and squeezed it tightly. "For everything I've put you all through."  
   
Vanille looked down at their linked hands, looking a little dismayed for a moment before she threw her arms around Fang's neck, hugging her tightly. Fang's throat felt raw as she buried her face in her sister's neck, drawing comfort from the close contact.  
   
"You've done nothing wrong, least of all to me," Vanille whispered in Fang's ear, pressing a kiss to her cheek and grabbing Fang's hand again. Feeling a little spent from her conversation with Vanille, Fang let herself follow her sister's lead, and the conversation and banter seemed to be in full-swing by the time they rejoined the group. Lightning shot her a smirk and a nod as Snow passed a bowl of food over to Fang, and Fang simply let herself enjoy it – the food, the family, and the feeling of being home.  
   
She tried not to think of the fact that she'd lose it all soon enough.  
   
A few mouthfuls of food later and during a short lull in the conversation, Hope cleared his throat and looked toward Lightning, his hand raised hesitantly.  
   
"Hey, Light, is that a bug bite there on your neck or...?"

###

"I only wanted to see if she needed healing! What's the big problem?" Hope demanded, looking absolutely mortified as both Snow and Fang erupted into idiotic guffaws. Lightning's eyes widened and she clapped her hand to her neck quickly, before realising how useless the action was at that point and letting her hand simply drop back to her side. Lightning's jaw set in frustration and she shot Fang a quelling look – she'd had no idea that Fang had left a mark, let alone a visible one.  
   
There was no reason to laugh at Hope like that, either – she hadn't exactly been open about the whole thing between herself and Fang. To him, the most obvious explanation for the mark could well have been a mosquito bite or some other scratch from Pulse's megafauna. Snow and Fang were still laughing between themselves, Vanille was rolling her eyes, Sazh was raising an eyebrow and Hope's blush had only deepened as he ducked his head.  
   
"Look, Hope," Lightning said, but hesitated.  
   
"If that sentence continues with, 'when two people love each other very much', I'm sorry but I am out of here," Sazh cut in, raising his hands defensively, and Lightning was certain her face had flushed as red as Hope's.  
   
"Oh, _right."_ Hope cleared his throat again, blinking rapidly as he looked between Lightning and Fang. "Well. That's a little different." His voice was a little high pitched and cracked as he said 'little', and he ducked his head again as if he wanted to sink into the floorboards.  
   
Snow's poor attempt at a straight face fragmented into another fresh round of chuckles as he slung his arm around the boy and scraped his knuckles through the pale hair, and from the lewd wink she gave Lightning, Fang wanted to take full advantage of the situation to scar Hope for life.  
   
"That's enough from the two of you," Lightning told them a little stiffly, and she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Snow heaved a sigh, and he pretended to wipe a tear from his eye before grabbing the back of Hope's shirt.  
   
"Right," Snow said, his voice holding a note of finality as he began to drag Hope toward the door and out of the run-down building. "You, me, birds and bees and birds-birds and bees-bees and every other possible combination of those mentioned, _right now,_ kid."  
   
 _"Snow!"_ Hope sounded aghast at Snow's plan, and he began to try to pry Snow's fingers loose even as he was unceremoniously marched away. "I've had the talk you really don't have to – I just didn't _think-"_  
   
The door swung shut on the remainder of Hope's protests, and suddenly there was silence. Perhaps it was a good thing that Hope hadn't struggled too hard, because chances were Snow would have just thrown the boy over his shoulder, Lightning thought with a small smile.  
   
"That a normal reaction?" Fang sounded amused at the situation, even if she did arch an eyebrow in question towards where Lightning stood.  
   
Lightning sighed, resting her hand on her hip and letting her smile fade. "I'd say he's just a little sheltered."  
   
"Not so sure that's the full picture," Sazh said with a small laugh. "I think it might be more his mind was blown at soldier-girl here doing anything more than hug." He looked a little apologetically at Lightning as he continued, "To be fair, I'm not so sure I can even get to 'hug'."  
   
Lightning didn't bother pretending to be angry with his trouble contemplating her softer side – not even a week ago, she had thought much the same of herself. Relationships weren't for her, she was too busy, she was too concerned with Serah, training and becoming stronger. In the end that hadn't been her at all. Lightning smiled slightly, because she was glad that she'd changed.  
   
Having Fang by her side – smiling, laughing, and feeling more synergy between them than Lightning had believed was possible – was worth all the possible distraction and doubt in the world. No matter what troubles the day brought her, she still had that to carry forward with her. With a slightly regretful smile, Lightning watched Fang all but drag Vanille out of the building – probably to watch the show as Snow tried to give the 'talk' to Hope.  
   
Lightning was glad things had changed between them – she just wished that she hadn't taken so long to realise that she'd really wanted that change all along.  
   
Sazh took his time in packing the remainder of his supplies away, and he seemed to want to speak with her quietly. Lightning nodded to him as he finally shouldered his pack, letting him know that he could get whatever it was off of his chest.  
   
"So that was awkward," Sazh told her, and the chocobo chick in his hair chirped in agreement.  
   
"You're telling me." Lightning laughed a little in spite of herself, and she looked at him squarely, all but openly daring him to continue with the tasteless jokes. Sazh nodded to himself, as if that answered his first question. He let the chocobo chick float down to his outstretched hand, his expression pensive.  
   
"Everything sorted with you and her, then?" Sazh asked finally, and Lightning pinched the bridge of her nose.  
   
"As far as I can tell... Maybe," she said, looking back over her shoulder, to where Fang and Vanille had vanished not a minute before. If only it were that easy.  
   
"Glad to see you're certain." Sazh's voice was dry, but when Lightning looked back to him, his dark eyes seemed concerned. Lightning didn't know what to tell him. She had wanted to say 'yes', she really had, because she knew that things were so much the better for their confrontation the night before. The problem was that their views on the way forward and the Focus were so fundamentally opposed that saying that 'everything was sorted' was a woeful oversimplification of the matter.  
   
"It's hard to tell with her," Lightning finally said, as they slowly made their way toward the door. "Her disposition seems to have brightened considerably, and she's promised to take no rash actions." Lightning's eyes narrowed, and not for the first time that day, she wanted to go outside and shake the sense into Fang. "She thinks Ragnarok is the only way to save us, for the record."  
   
Sazh made a small and bitter-sounding noise. "Maybe she's right, when all is said and done."  
   
Lightning didn't have the strength to argue the point again so early in the morning, so she simply shrugged. "It could be the case. But none of the rest of us want to cross that line, and that was my stance last night."  
   
Sazh nodded, even if his face was a mixture between worry and relief. Lightning hesitated as she reached the building's exit, her hand resting on the slightly damp wood as she debated whether she should tell Sazh more. She almost laughed at herself, then. Secrets and miscommunication were the tools of anarchy and the key to destroying even the strongest and well-attuned squads. Lightning had learned her lesson over the past week, painful as it had all been. She exhaled sharply, looking over her shoulder to where Sazh was waiting.  
   
"She promised me that she wouldn't do something stupid and attempt Ragnarok on her own," Lightning told him, and she was surprised at how level and calm she sounded to her own ears. "But when it comes down to it, I'm not sure I have full control over this situation."  
   
"Control?" Sazh looked sceptical, and he crossed his arms over his chest.  
   
"Perhaps that's the wrong word," Lightning conceded. "We're at an impasse. Our position is clear and our choice. The problem is that Fang's position is clear and it's her choice. It's a difficult situation. All of us are in this together and it's all connected." Lightning shook her head, unamused at how reality had played out. Things were better than they were, of course they were. But what was she going to do about the rest of the problem?  
   
Lightning swallowed her unease and continued. "I managed to convince her to wait until the last moment, and I'm not so sure she's going to." She could feel the brand through her sweater, raw, hot and always felt like it was waiting on the edge of her mind.  
   
"If she doesn't?" Sazh's voice was soft, and Lightning rolled her shoulders irritably at the thought.  
   
"I honestly have no idea what I'll do. _Something."_ Lightning closed her eyes, just for a moment before she pushed the door open. "I've got to do something."

###

The decision to move on from Oerba was not one that was openly discussed between the l'Cie, but it felt as though a silent agreement had been made as they made their way across the broken the bridge and toward the lands beyond. Stress itched at Fang's mind as she kept pace beside Vanille, because chances were that they wouldn't even make it to the next port of call before something had to give. She bit the inside of her cheek, fighting the urge to round on them all and tell them how it was.  
   
That never worked, though, not back in the Ark and it certainly hadn't worked the night before. It felt like she was waiting for the axe to fall, and it was driving her to distraction no matter how many hugs Vanille offered her or how many reassuring looks Lightning shot her. Fang's mouth twisted. How much longer was it going to take before Lightning broke and let Fang do what she had to do? The consequences of failure was all around them, from the shattered buildings to the horrifying convulsions of the cie'th they fought.  
   
Fang paused as they passed over a narrow stretch of bridge, her eyes narrowing as she looked out over the crystal-dusted coasts. She felt Vanille hesitate beside her and begin to say something, but surprisingly her sister changed her mind and remained silent as they both looked upwards, toward where Cocoon had always hung in the sky. Five hundred years ago, she'd failed to take it out. It really was do or die, this time. Fang's head began to hurt, and she turned, refusing to meet Vanille's worried gaze as they continued on.  
   
They'd only reached but the centre of the old bridge when the voice drifted to Fang's ears, soft and reverent on the wind. The voice seemed to come from nowhere at all, and Fang's skin began to crawl as she listened.  
   
"Ragnarok. Come Day of Wrath, O Pulse l'Cie. Embrace thy fate, thine home to burn. That fallen souls might bare our plea... to hasten the Divine's return."  
   
 _Ragnarok._  
   
Fang looked up sharply, her eyes quickly scanning the wrecked train line that stretched on before them. In spite of the obvious lack of a threat, her fingers twitched for her weapon. Ahead of her, Lightning had hesitated, and Snow had frozen mid-stride with a sharp intake of breath. Light and darkness seemed to coalesce before them, and a girl – shorter than Vanille – drifted towards them.  
   
"O Piteous Wanderer, Ragnarok," the girl continued in a quiet and haunting voice that didn't feel _there._ "Make of this day a brave epoch. Deliver the Divine, Ragnarok."  
   
Fang's eyes narrowed further as the light cleared and the girl's features came into sharper relief. Even before Snow whispered the girl's name, Fang knew without a doubt that this person was Serah – Lightning's only remaining family and the one who had shaped Lightning's life in the same way Vanille had shaped Fang's own. Fang's lips thinned, and she discretely loosened the straps that help her polearm to her back.  
   
No matter who said the words, anyone who dared to say Ragnarok was a _good_ thing was an enemy in Fang's mind.  
   
The expression of doubt and horror on Lightning's face was heartbreaking as she did not move to embrace her only family, and it only reinforced Fang's feeling of foreboding. Fang didn't dare make a move either, because what if she was wrong after all? What if this Serah really was no threat?  
   
"I was waiting for you to open your eyes," Serah told them, from where Snow was cradling her in her arms. His expression was still shocked, still completely unbelieving. "All the time I was asleep, I knew what was happening. I kept trying to think of a way to save Cocoon – together."  
   
Her voice was still hollow and reeked of manipulation, so much so that even Snow sensed the deep wrongness and pushed her away. Serah stumbled back and fell to the ground, and instead of reacting with anger or surprise the way Fang would have expected, Serah simply smiled and pushed herself back to her feet.  
   
"You get it, now." Serah drifted around the edge of the group, her dead eyes sliding over each and every one of the l'Cie as she smiled in a way that was not quite human. Fang watched her, her jaw clenching uselessly as Barthandelus' mechanical owl circled like a vulture above them. "There are no gods with miracles to save us, no matter where you look. That's why we have to call one."  
   
Serah turned from them for a moment, and Fang tore her eyes away from Menrva. So that was the way the dice had landed, was it? From the look in her eyes, Lightning had figured out the fal'Cie's trickery too, but Lightning had not yet raised her weapon against her sister. Fang didn't blame her.  
   
"Destroy Orphan," Serah begged them as she turned. "We'll save the world!"  
   
"Stop it!" Lightning snapped, her face white but her hand moving for her weapon nonetheless. The corner of Fang's mouth turned up in a humourless smile – maybe Lightning could strike her own sister down. Serah bared her teeth and her eyes narrowed calculatingly as she seemed to slide forward.  
   
"You can't do that, you love me too much." Serah's voice was confident and smug. As Serah drew close, Lightning's move to draw her weapon froze, and Serah leaned in. "You do, don't you, Claire?"  
   
Snow cut in between them, and Fang had to wonder who exactly he was trying to protect – Lightning, or Serah?  
   
"Enough already," Snow told Serah, his voice low and serious. "Listen up – we are all shooting for the same goal here-"  
   
The illusion, _Serah,_ shattered with a pulse of blinding light that left Fang blinking to clear the dark spots from her eyes. When Fang raised her head to survey the damage, she met the unforgiving eyes of Galenth Dysley, and he smiled as if he knew all of her doubts and all of her fears. As if he knew that it was only a matter of time before Fang would bow and fulfil out his deepest wish. Fang's stomach twisted and she felt filthy for being complicit in his plans.  
   
"And the result of _that_ is this," Dysley told them coldly, and he spread his arms wide in supplication. It was as if he hadn't just tried to manipulate them by wearing the skin of a loved one. Fang's eyes narrowed as she remembered the look of shock and horror on Lightning's face. The Cocoon fal'Cie deserved to die!  
   
"You son of a-" Snow roared as he launched himself forward again and again, only to be thrown back into their midst as his fist impacted with whatever barrier Dysley had formed about himself.  
   
"You betray your fal'Cie to chase after dreams and shadows," Dysley said, gesturing with one hand to the ruins of Oerba, as if he'd known all along what they'd sought in the wreckage. "The world you claim you wish to protect now faces the end of days with no hope of salvation."  
   
The parallels he'd drawn between Cocoon's fate and the fate of her fellow l'Cie were not lost on Fang, and she itched to lash out at him, to do anything that would stop him from speaking or hurting her family further. Vanille rested her hand against Fang's shoulder, her touch calming and reassuring.  
   
"I didn't think fal'Cie had the means," Lightning snapped, her hand still reaching for her weapon as if she echoed Fang's silent sentiments exactly.  
   
"Oh, it won't be fal'Cie who destroy her. For centuries now, Cocoon has provided generously for its human inhabitants' every want and need. Coddled them, one might even say. The result being, their deep-seated fear and hatred of change and all things alien." Dysley's lips twisted into a sneer, his contempt for human life plain. "Fed, nurtured, and ready to detonate at the slightest spark. The seeds of destruction take root, even now."  
   
"What did you do to Cocoon?" Lightning demanded, and Fang shook her head. Perhaps Dysley was a fool to be telling them of his plan, but what was far more likely was that things were far enough along for none of it to matter. If things were that bad up there, then –  
   
"I resigned, appointing Raines as Primarch in my stead."  
   
"Raines?" Snow started forward, his eyes wide. "He's alive?"  
   
The corners of Dysley's mouth curled cruelly again. "The puppet is restrung to serve my needs, yes. Its eyes have long since turned to glass."  
   
Fang lowered her eyes, the sheer implications that simple action of Dysley's would have on an organisation like the Cavalry, even as Vanille gasped in horror at the callous nature of the blow. Fang had long since expected such ruthlessness from Cocoon fal'Cie, even if it seemed that nobody else did.  
   
"Of course," Dysley continued, almost laughing but not quite, as if humanity's struggles and dreams were nothing but a simple amusement for him as he crushed them into oblivion. "In the eyes of the Cavalry, our friend will be seen as nothing more than a traitor to their cause. They'll say the fal'Cie got to him too, or some such drivel. And imagine – when I spread the word that it's Orphan tugging at his strings – what happens next."  
   
"You're gonna use the Cavalry to take the thing out?" Sazh sounded alarmed.  
   
"Perhaps. Or perhaps, I'll feign the howling of Pulsian wolves and let the fear-addled sheep slaughter themselves first! Either way, the end is at hand."  
   
Dysley began to laugh, and Fang wondered if the others realised just how badly they'd lost to the fal'Cie's machinations. No matter which way they turned, Cocoon and everyone alive up there was doomed. Her teeth bared and her hands began to shake. Why the hell wasn't Lightning saying the word? How the hell could she even hope that they could still win? Why not end the game in a way that didn't involve turning cie'th for martyrdom?  
   
"But what of yourselves?" Dysley asked, interrupting Fang's thoughts. "Will you enjoy the festivities beside me? Or perhaps..."  
   
Dysley raised his staff to the sky. Menvra circled him once, fusing with him in a flash of blinding light and suddenly there was a lot less room on the Oerban bridge as Barthandelus grinned rapturously down at them.  
   
"Greet the end here, in the land where it all began?"  
   
 _Screw Ragnarok,_ Fang decided, drawing her weapon and throwing herself forward alongside Snow into battle, as Lightning began to call out formations and strategy. _We have to survive this arsehole's tender attentions first._

###

_To save a people beyond salvation, there is only Ragnarok._  
   
Lightning turned Barthandelus' words over and over in her head, sharpening her dualweapon with steady and practices strokes that belied the chaos in her mind. Following their fight, the group had resolved to go and confront Orphan directly – Lightning was unsure how much good talking with the central fal'Cie would do them. Perhaps if they got rid of Barthandelus as well...  
   
Lightning cursed softly as her steady motion slipped, and she nearly sliced her thumb open. Looking up through her bangs, her eyes lingered on where Vanille was crouched, pouring over the Analects – or whatever they were called – with Fang at her back, and judging by the disgruntled look on Vanille's face, the other woman was probably offering some very unhelpful commentary. Fang's face, however, betrayed none of the raw anger of last night, and she seemed almost light-hearted.  
   
Lightning was not fooled, not any more. She knew now that Fang was good at pretending, and that the smiles and laughter were probably just the calm before the storm. Lightning's lips twitched into a reluctant smile as she watched Vanille suddenly flap her hands at Fang and she heard snatches of Vanille's overwrought lecturing. She looked back down to her weapon, fishing a rag out of her bag and beginning to polish the blazefire sabre's mirror edge.  
   
Somewhere between the Sulyya Springs and last night, Vanille had ceased to be such a big threat in Lightning's mind. Maybe it was because she knew for sure how Fang felt, maybe it was because they'd managed to exhaust all of their vulnerabilities and anger, and somehow they'd still come out of it feeling just as strongly for each other. The how or why hardly mattered, either way. Lightning didn't mind Vanille quite so much. Now that she had a better understanding of Fang's past and what drove her, she had just a little more respect for Vanille as she tried to ground and balance Fang a little more.  
   
Lightning heard the scuff of shoes on cracked concrete, the gait unmistakable and she looked up with with a raised eyebrow. When Vanille had sent Fang away in a fit of pique, the next obvious choice of who to bother was clearly Lightning. She wasn't sure whether to be flattered or exasperated, so she settled on both. Fang's eyes seemed distant and thoughtful though, and Lightning wondered if she was dwelling on Ragnarok and the Focus.  
   
"I was just thinking of you," Lightning offered, eager to keep Fang redirected.  
   
"We've a saying on Gran Pulse about that." Fang leaned on the broken wall beside Lightning, her arms crossed in front of her chest. _"'Think of the devil, and you step on his tail'."_  
   
Lightning snorted, turning her gaze back to her weapon maintenance. "Don't flatter yourself."  
   
Fang was quiet for a few moments, and Lightning began to cast about for something else to say, but Fang's next words saved her the trouble.  
   
"Claire, huh?" Fang asked, her voice quiet as if she was unsure how loud she was permitted to speak the name. Lightning paused in her motions for a moment, considering. In the turmoil of seeing Serah and the fight afterwards, she'd forgotten that Barthandelus had let her old name slip out. It hardly mattered, though she supposed she was a little annoyed at having that choice taken from her.  
   
"It was a long time ago, but yes." Lightning nodded, folding the oily rag over three times and placing back in the small bag strapped to her thigh.  
   
"It's a nice name, but..." Fang openly studied her, her eyes thoughtful as they seemed to draw in everything that Lightning was. Lightning tolerated the scrutiny, until finally, Fang shrugged. "It doesn't suit you."  
   
"I'm sure that Serah would disagree," Lightning said, sheathing her weapon with a smile that felt a little more strained than usual. Serah had never really liked the whole 'Lightning' thing, and even though she'd gone along with it, she'd regularly complained about it.  
   
"Before you think I don't like it – Etro, don't look at me like that, as if I could really hate any bit of you – I just happen to reckon that you've grown beyond it." Fang took a hold of the end of Lightning's red cape, and began to toy with it absently for a moment.  
   
"My motives for choosing 'Lightning' weren't exactly the most mature." Lightning wondered then if Hope had told Fang the story she'd shared with him in Palumpolum, and then dismissed the thought as irrelevant. "But you're right, I suppose. I might not be who I thought I was, back before becoming a l'Cie... I might be trying harder, but I'm not just Claire any more. I'm always going to be Lightning."  
   
"So you stay Lightning." Fang smiled, and Lightning frowned when the look in Fang's eyes bordered on relief. "I'm kind of glad that I know, though. Even if you have been using a pseudonym since we met. Lying to a woman about your name just to sleep around – I'd never have thought it of you."  
   
Lightning scoffed quietly at Fang's failure of a joke, wondering why Fang would be so relieved about the whole name business. There was silence from Fang now, and Lightning could feel the oppressive weight of it now that the easy banter had faded away.  
   
"This..." Fang ran her hand through her hair. The gesture would have seemed casual before last night, but now it seemed to reek of anxious energy and barely masked fear. "Is it all part of the plan?"  
   
"Not exactly." Lightning leaned over slightly, shifting so that the bare skin of her shoulder rested against Fang's own. She had to be honest, because the worst thing to do would be to lie to Fang after the trust between them was still so new and weak. "We'll go along with it for now, though."  
   
Fang muttered something that sounded rebellious and cynical, and Lightning nudged her slightly with her elbow.  
   
"Hope is right," Lightning told her, looking over to where Menvra waited to take them up to whatever chaos was happening on Cocoon. "If we don't stop Barthandelus now, this whole mess just happens to someone else down the line – you know that better than anyone." Lightning looked squarely at Fang, taking in her stony silence. It was has a harsh thing that she'd said, Lightning knew that, but surely Fang would appreciate the truth in it. Lightning sighed as Fang gave her no leeway.  
   
"So long as we look like we're playing his game," Lightning continued, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her head up to look at where Cocoon sat, seeming to wait for a hammer to fell it. "I have the feeling that Barthandelus will give us the time to get as close to Orphan as we wish."  
   
"Is that right?" Fang's voice was harsh and tight, and through the contact at their shoulders, Lightning could feel how rigid her body was. "What makes you so _sure?"_  
   
"He practically told us outright that we had it in us to make it to Orphan. That we would make it to Orphan, that we'd see our own failure even if we just watched from the sidelines."  
   
"And you're only now deciding to get righteous about how cruel Cocoon fal'Cie are?" Fang's jaw tightened stubbornly, and Lightning wondered what lingering memories Fang had of Cocoon fal'Cie and the War. "You're around five hundred years behind the ball, Light."  
   
Lightning ignored Fang's jab. "It's a reprieve. He's as good as said we have a _chance."_  
   
"And you don't think he won't up and pull the trigger on one of you, just to keep you all downtrodden and knowing who the boss is?" Was the expression in Fang's eyes anger, desperation, or an explosive mixture of both?  
   
Fang's grim scenario had flitted through Lightning's thoughts frequently since their decision to take the fight to Barthandelus' doorstep, and the thought of any one of their group finally running out of time on the whim of that fal'Cie was enough to make her skin crawl. Even so, what were they to do? Sit back and wait to die down on Gran Pulse, while Fang got it into her head that she'd finally turn Ragnarok? Not a chance, not while there was still a glimmer of hope.  
   
"It's a gamble that we're going to have to take," Lightning told Fang, her voice firm. "You've mentioned 'Lady Luck' before – have a little faith in the dumb luck that got us this far."  
   
Fang's lips were compressed in a tight, flat line. "Easier said than done."  
   
"Vanille believes," Lightning pointed out, jerking her head over to where Vanille still scoured the Analects for further clues in the past.  
   
"That's the thing." Fang said, her voice tight even if the look in her eyes was fond and gentle. "I've always been the one to see reality, make the tough calls and hard choices. Some things never change."  
   
The rawness and anger seemed to come and go, and sometimes it was a little hard for Lightning to follow along. The awful tension between them had bubbled up again despite Lightning's best efforts, despite their talk and their agreement. Lightning struggled to fight down her retaliatory anger at Fang's stubborn cynicism, and she cast about for something to diffuse the situation with. What did Fang believe in? What did she have to hold onto? Fighting the Focus was all well and good for people who wanted to believe in something, but for Fang it seemed to be not just useless but outright detrimental.  
   
Fang needed something concrete and irrefutable, something to hold on to.  
   
"And some things do change." Lightning leaned into Fang's forearm again, just enough pressure for Fang to take comfort but not enough contact to stifle her. "You and I, like this. Pulse and Cocoon, fighting for the same goal. Friends."  
   
"More." The corner of Fang's mouth twitched in a reluctant smile, and Lightning counted that as a small victory even if the other woman's eyes remained stark and wary.  
   
"When you woke up in the Vestige, would you have thought that possible?" Lightning asked, and she watched Fang push herself away from the wall and give her a long, suspicious look.  
   
"I'll play along, for now," Fang said, her voice low enough that Lightning had to really listen to catch her words. "You know what we agreed, though."  
   
Lightning watched her leave to stand by Vanille's shoulder again, and Lightning sighed to herself and rubbed a frustrated hand through her hair.  
   
"As if I could forget... I don't know what I can do to help you see the future we're trying to reach."  
   
She felt as if an enormous pressure on her had just eased with Fang's departure. She supposed, if she was to be honest with herself, that that was exactly the problem. She was so worried about Fang, so determined to make Fang see that it might not end in disaster.  
   
Fang was far too stubborn though, and Lightning was at a loss.

###

A good part of Eden was already nothing but smoking wreckage by the time the group had made it back to Cocoon. It had been Snow's idea to create enough of a scene to try and draw the Cavalry's attention from Orphan, but so far they'd encountered none of Raines' old army and more of PSICOM's zealous goons than Fang could stomach. The Gran Pulsian wildlife running havoc through the streets was just icing on the bloody cake, too.

The ground occasionally trembled from the force of distant explosions, and were those screams she heard, or was it just the over-vivid echo of a memory long gone? Either way, Cocoon vipers still died just the same as the folk on Gran Pulse had back in the war. Fang's teeth had clenched, and it felt like the acrid smoke was everywhere, clinging to her skin and clothing and making everything seem far worse than it should have been. 

Everything felt so similar to her old memories, and it felt like five hundred years had not passed at all. The feeling made her mind feel hazy and ill, and as they forced their way through the soldiers, the monsters and the weaponised machinery, Fang wondered how much longer she could take it. She'd promised Lightning that she would hold it together until the very end, but her resolve was fraying at an alarming rate and she was certain she was about to go mad from the memories hammering on the insides of her skull. 

Vanille's hand in Fang's own was not enough to distract her, no matter how many sad looks the girl shot her in the quiet after battle. Vanille knew how it was, Vanille knew exactly how much trouble Fang was having. She knew how familiar the situation was for Fang, no matter that their surroundings were so alien and their enemies were still Cocoon soldiers. 

The understanding was appreciated, though, even if it hardly offered respite. 

Snow's groupies eventually found them, and Fang could barely force herself to listen to the crock of shit they were spouting, about heroes and saving Cocoon. She almost opened her mouth to make all of them _shut up,_ but Fang felt a fleeting touch at the small of her back. It was surprising, just enough to make her hesitate and take a deep breath to calm herself a little, and she watched Team NORA rocket away. 

Over her shoulder, Lightning offered her a small smile, and Fang wondered how she was managing. Her face was pale and tired, a little smudged from the smoke and soot, and Fang wasn't sure if it was because of the brand, or it it was simply seeing her home brought to the edge of ruin. 

Vanille and Lightning – if they could hold it together, why the hell couldn't Fang? Fang clenched her teeth and forged onwards through Eden.

###

They'd left Yaag behind to await medical help from whatever PSICOM could spare, and Fang had been glad to simply leave him to whatever fate he ended with. If he died before PSICOM could get to him, then she really wouldn't bat an eyelid. It didn't matter that he'd finally called his dogs off. He was an officer of the enemy, he'd frankly made their lives hell since the Purge, and Fang would be damned before she felt sorry for him.  
   
As they'd all gathered before the elevator for the next part of their trek to Orphan, an explosion shook the ground and Fang knew with a certainty that it had come from where they'd left Yaag.  Beside her, Vanille had flinched covered her mouth, all shock, horror and pity for the man. Fang had held her sister back, because there was nothing that could be done for the man now. Even so, Snow looked uneasy, Sazh was grim, and Hope had gone white and had looked down at his shoes.  
   
Fang wondered, then, just how well-known this Yaag idiot had been for Cocoon. Just a few steps before her, in easy reach if Fang so wished, Lightning's face was a stoic mask of iron control, and Fang realised that for these people, Yaag had never really been an enemy at all. She'd never considered that before.  
   
As they exited the elevator, Fang lingered toward the back of the group, motioning sharply to catch Lightning's eye. The woman nodded, quickly spoke with Snow about something that Fang's straining ears couldn't catch, and then made her way back to where Fang stood by the elevator. Lightning's expression was still closed-off and business-like as she stopped before Fang, but at Fang's sharp look, the serious mask faded.  
   
That was better. Fang wanted to talk with Lightning, not the drill sergeant. The others had moved on ahead, so that there would be no danger of being overheard.  
   
"That Yaag fellow," Fang started, shooting a look back towards where the blast had come from, before shaking her head. "Was he well known? You guys seem awfully put out about him."  
   
It sounded like a callous question, but Fang had asked it anyhow. A lot of Lightning's past was an unknown quantity, even if the same could be said of Fang's own past.  
   
"To an extent, I suppose. Yaag Rosch's name was always associated with security and safety, and that's a hard thing to shake – even if he _has_ been trying his damnedest to kill us," Lightning amended, her small smile becoming wry.  
   
Not to be deterred, Fang pressed on. "Did you know him?"  
   
Lightning shot Fang a fleeting glance, and her eyes were amused even if her expression was pale and tired. "Not as much more than an acquaintance."  
   
"Is that right? Thought you said you weren't PSICOM."  
   
"Back when I trained for the Corps, Rosch used to train us. PSICOM tactical manoeuvres, that sort of thing." Lightning shrugged, as if that part of her past meant little to her and that the man they'd just fought had not been someone she'd known personally. "He said that PSICOM would be glad to have me when I graduated. PSICOM was too unstable for my liking, and I chose to stay near Bodhum, for Serah."  
   
"Glad you did?" Fang asked, studying her reactions. She told herself that she was only getting to know Lightning while she still could – to take something good with her into crystal stasis – and not just fishing for trouble or more arguments.  
   
"Maybe." Lightning smiled humourlessly. "I suppose I've often wondered what would have happened, had I chosen differently, had I not chosen Serah over my own career advancement."  
   
"You'd be dead as Rosch, if you were in PSICOM. Or one of those poor sucker cie'th Vanille said you encountered in the Vestige," Fang told her, while the more cynical part of her mind whispered that Lightning would be as good as dead soon, anyway.  
   
"I can only imagine," Lightning said with a nod, and she looked up to where Cocoon's fake sun shone above them. She seemed quiet, though it was more of a pensive silence than an offended one. "Vanille once asked me, 'what do you do in your spare time?', and I'm not sure she found my answer satisfactory."  
   
Fang frowned, crossing her arms against her chest, unsure of what she was really meant to do with that piece of information. Doubtful of where it was all going, Fang said, "I suppose that sounds like her."  
   
"It took me a while to understand what she was really asking." Lightning paused, and suddenly Fang felt like she was the one being openly analysed for flaws or weakness. "Fang. What do you want to do, after all this is over?"  
   
Fang rolled her shoulders, feeling a little uncomfortable with the direction the conversation had taken. "You're jumping like a flea between topics here."  
   
Lightning wasn't fazed by Fang's quiet rebuke, and rested her hand on one hip. She looked more stubborn than usual, Fang noted with an internal sigh.  
   
"Did you want to rebuild Oerba, bring it back?" Lightning asked softly but firmly, her hand moving forward as if to reach out for Fang, but she must have thought better of it because she simply let it fall back to her side. "Maybe live here, on Cocoon? Find a place for yourself and Vanille?"  
   
Fang's eyes narrowed, the truth of the situation suddenly growing clear. "I know exactly what you reckon you're doing."  
   
"Does that change anything?" Lightning's tone was entirely too innocent, and Fang turned her back on the other woman as her anger spiked.  
   
"You don't have to do all this, just to _spare_ my tender feelings." Fang closed her eyes, suddenly doubting everything. Her hands clenched into fists, and she let out a long breath. "Is this what last night was all about? Soothing me so I don't go off the deep end? _You don't have to._ I'm a big girl, and I'll manage. I'll _cope."_  
   
There was a light pressure at the back of Fang's neck as Lightning rested her forehead against her, and felt a slight pull as Lightning tangled a hand in Fang's sari. She heard Lightning take a deep breath, and abruptly felt a little sorry for her outburst.  
   
"No, I suppose I don't have to, but that's not what it was about at all." Lightning's breath tickled the skin between Fang's shoulder blades, and Fang shivered. "And anyway, what if I want to? What if I want your answer and your hope, not just for you but for me, as well?"  
   
"For you?" Fang looked around, an eyebrow raised. Well, she supposed the explanation would be good, at the very least.  
   
"It took me a while, to figure out exactly what Vanille meant back then." Fang felt Lightning's hands clench and pull the fabric tangled in them tighter, before relaxing. "My answer for her, my ambitions, my _life..._ It was all about Serah. I'd come to expect it to be that way. It was just what I did."  
   
Fang nodded, and it all felt achingly familiar.  
   
"Once, it was enough for me. I really was happy. Now... I don't think I can go back. I don't think I _should,_ either." Lightning's hand on Fang's shoulder made her turn, and Fang looked directly into Lightning's eyes.  
   
Despite the situation, she still got a thrill out of seeing that much emotion in Lightning's eyes, after weeks of apathy and days of anger or resentment.  
   
"Part of me still thinks _this_ was a bad idea, and that it's just another worry on top of everything else. For once though, I didn't do what was expected of me." Lightning laughed softly, and it sounded reluctant. Her fingertips trailed down from Fang's shoulder, a feather-light contact, as if she was afraid to touch too hard or too much.  
   
"I wanted you for _me,_ selfish as it seemed at the time." Lightning's lips twitched into a warm smile as she caught Fang's hand lightly in her own. "And I'm glad I'm starting to do so. I have something to look ahead to, something to build."  
   
Fang was quiet for a long while as she digested Lightning's words, looking down at where both of Lightning's gloved hands held one of Fang's own. She hadn't known Vanille had considered Lightning's viewpoint with Serah such an issue. The fact that the situation between Lightning and Serah was so mirrored by Fang and Vanille's was not lost on Fang, either.  
   
"I _don't_ want to rebuild Oerba," Fang said suddenly, and was rewarded by Lightning's obvious surprise. To her credit, the other woman recovered herself quickly.  
   
"Running away from the past, then? How very... Oerban of you." Lightning's voice was completely deadpan, even if there was a grain of truth to her words.  
   
"Running? More like moving forward." Fang laughed in spite of herself, and she tightened her grip on Lightning's hands. "Between me and Vanille, you must have an awful perspective on how we deal with things on Gran Pulse. We must be nothing but a pack of cowards."  
   
"Not at all." Lightning sounded amused by Fang's strangled attempt at banter, and Fang felt herself relax a little more.  
   
"Maybe I want to travel instead, and see all of Gran Pulse. See what's changed, see if Vanille and I really are the only ones left. The past is ours to reclaim," Fang said with more conviction, before quickly amending with a wider smile, "At least to me, it is."  
   
"You're not wrong." Lightning's look was fond as she tugged on Fang's hand lightly to get them moving along. "Sounds like a hell of a future."  
   
"Yeah," Fang agreed, letting Lightning take her back to the group, back to their journey to Orphan, to pain and perhaps salvation. "It would be, if we ever got the time."  
   
It was a stupid and useless dream, because it wouldn't happen and couldn't happen. Not with the Focus and not with Barthandelus breathing down their necks. But there was just so much that Fang wanted to share with her family, all the experiences and sights sounds – thinking about it filled Fang with a fierce sort of longing that she'd thought she'd long since left behind.  
   
In spite of the Focus and the hell of the past few weeks, Fang didn't want her time with them to end. She wished that they could have gone on forever back on Gran Pulse, laughing and exploring her old home in blissful ignorance. Fang's grip tightened on Lightning's hand and her pace slowed to a stop. As Lightning turned to ask what was wrong, Fang darted forward, her free hand cupping Lightning's chin and pulling her in for a searing kiss.  
   
Fang felt Lightning's hands tangle in her hair, and Fang felt herself shudder as she tried to commit every taste, texture and scent to her memory. She tried to make it so that even if stasis somehow happened, that the world spun onwards in spite of Cocoon's fall and she woke to find that she'd lost a whole handful of her memories again, she'd remember.  
   
Fang eventually had to pull away, a little out of breath and still feeling so _raw,_ but Lightning reached forward and hugged her close again. Fang could have sworn that she'd heard Lightning's breath hitch a little, and she wondered if Lightning wanted those same memories to take with her into the fight with Barthandelus.  
   
"Let's go," Lightning told Fang finally as she pulled away, and Fang nodded stiffly. To a fate worse than death, to crystal stasis, to absolute destruction, either way it all ended soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm on a roll - only one last chapter to go, then the epilogue. Sorry for the delay with this chapter, I was participating in FF_Exchange this year and needed to get the story finished and submitted!
> 
> And can I just say, thank god these two have mostly stopped being angry at one another. It's nice to write them as generally being positive about one another.


	10. Orphan's Cradle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the final battle with Orphan, when the future could be saved or lost. Lightning seems certain, but Fang... Fang knows how this story ends, and it's not with sunshine or rainbows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Emotional breakdown, torture, loss, as per canon.

Fang's footsteps echoed through the blinding white Narthex, and she hesitated as the long, winding hallways finally came to an abrupt end. A part of her mind recoiled at the sight of the glowing red bar shining on the far wall, while the other part might as well have leaned forward with a feral grin. Through that door was Orphan's nest, the Cradle, and the end point of the Focus she'd received so many years ago. 

It felt like she'd suffered so much to get to this point. The pain of becoming a l'Cie, the fear of losing Vanille, of fighting a war with a planet that wished genocide on her people, to letting herself become engulfed in the negativity and unleashing Ragnarok. 

Now knowing that Cocoon's key fal'Cie had wished for death all along, and that they would have let her approach with little challenge... Perhaps she should have tried walking through the front door five hundred years earlier, Fang thought with a bitter twist to her mouth. It could have saved them all so much trouble. 

Vanille came to a stop beside her, biting her lip uncertainly. The purposeful sound of Lightning's boots on the sterile white tiles approached, and Fang's eyes narrowed suspiciously. 

Vanille and Lightning, both looking pale and stressed, both looking at Fang as if _she_ was the one with the major problem. At least they were getting along, now that it was far too late, Fang noted with a silent sigh. Fang watched Lightning continue on with Snow and Hope. She wished she could be certain that this wasn't the end for them all. Fang nodded to Vanille once, and then she turned to watch Lightning open the door to Orphan's Cradle.

The l'Cie entered the Cradle from the Narthex, Fang keeping pace at Lightning's side, her expression iced into what she hoped was aloof determination. Ahead of them, the Cradle was decked out in spinning wheels, and a bright yellow light that seemed to suffuse everything with false warmth. Only the whir of cogs broke the silence within the Cradle. 

Lightning halted before the steps, glancing sideways to Vanille.

"Ready?" Lightning asked her, and Vanille nodded. 

"Yep." Despite her determination, Fang noted that Vanille's voice sounded subdued, and she shot Snow a quick look, wondering if he was going to start it with the rhetoric to rally their spirits for one last hurrah. The man remained silent, and Fang shook her head as she heard Hope affirm his own readiness. 

Without a further word, Lightning led them on down the stairs, and as they reached the end of the platform, they all looked out over the empty throne in the centre of the hall. Fang felt her anxiety spike again, and the skin between her shoulder blades tightened. She shifted her shoulders uncomfortably.

Orphan. Ragnarok. The Focus. Her _family._

The ground around them began to shake – maybe from the Pulsian wildlife still chewing at its shell – and it seemed to galvanise her fellow l'Cie into action. 

"This is it," Snow said, his voice grave, and Lightning shot Fang a fleeting look before turning her gaze back to the empty throne.

"Moment of truth, Hero," Fang heard Lightning tell him, and then launched herself off from the hanging edge. The rest of the l'Cie followed, and as they landed together on the throne room's floor, Fang craned her neck up. 

Crystals floated around them, defying the natural law of gravity. Vanille murmured something about little lights, and Fang nodded to her, remembering. She'd seen those sparks before, and she knew enough to know that it meant powerful magic, pain and terror. She wouldn't be cowed by simple magic tricks, though. The ground began to shake again, and two globes of light coalesced at either side of the chamber and grew rapidly in size.

"Life's spark shines on, once freed from its fleshy shroud." Dysley's voice echoed from somewhere in the chamber, and Fang's grip tightened on her weapon reflexively. His voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, and it was going to do Fang's head in. Ahead of them, the lights grew brighter, gained form, until she could see two crystals warp into being. She hadn't needed to hear Sazh and Snow's anguished shouts to know that those were the crystal forms of Serah and Dajh. 

Fang had a bad feeling about that.

Wings sounded from behind her, and Fang turned half a pace as Menvra – maybe Barthandelus' fellow fal'Cie, maybe his tool, maybe even his bloody familiar – swooped down low. Fang bared her teeth at it as it passed right through their group and burst into a now-familiar light on the Cradle's throne. Galenth Dysley appeared as the light faded into nothing, seated at the post of the highest-purpose fal'Cie on Cocoon, sneering down at them like some insufferable god. 

Well, just in case the rest of the l'Cie had made Fang forget just what is was about Cocoon that she'd hated all those years ago, there was an unwelcome reminder. 

"Dreams, meanwhile, shatter in a flash," Dysley told them, and Fang wondered if that was barely-restrained glee in his voice as he lifted his staff up and then tapped it once on the floor. It echoed in the quiet of the chamber, and in a brief moment of absolute terror, Fang wondered if he was going to end the timer on her family and turn them to cie'th. 

Dajh's statue shattered at the sound, and Sazh's anguished roar was all Fang could hear. It was a cruel blow, calculated to cripple and reign their defiance in. Fang's eyes snapped over to Lightning – from the way Lightning suddenly blanched, from the useless way Snow desperately reached out for Serah's crystal, they'd figured out what would come next. 

"NO!"

Snow looked as if his heart had torn in two as the crystal smashed into fragments, and the man threw caution into the wind as he charged at Dysley. 

Fang, meanwhile, only felt bitter. She'd expected nothing else from the cruel Cocoon fal'Cie, even if the look of agony on Lightning's face was unbearable. His attack repelled easily by Dysley's shields, Snow crashed back into their group, and he groaned in pain. 

Fang watched Lightning crouch by him and push him upright. Sure, a part of Fang felt awful for them, but another part wondered if Serah's crystal breaking would finally be _Lightning's_ breaking point. 

The skin between Fang's shoulder blades itched, and she watched Dysley smile down at them all. 

"Think!" Fang heard Lightning tell Snow quietly. "Where's the _real_ Serah?"

Snow met Lightning's eyes brokenly for a few tense heartbeats, before reaching into his pocket and withdrawing the crystal tear. It glowed with the same ethereal light as always, and seeing it there and whole seemed to be enough to calm him just a little. Fang's lip curled in anger – it was all useless delusion. 

Fang's thoughts circled her future dream, the one she'd shared with Lightning not two hours ago. The dream of something more made her heart ache, and it felt like it was the only thing that held her back from simply ignoring the deal she'd made with Lightning back in Oerba and killing Dysley and Orphan right then. Fang swallowed as Sazh and Snow nodded to one another, and Snow climbed back to his feet. 

Dysley, however, just laughed at them. 

"At last, my errant l'Cie. Men fight men. Men battle beast. Cocoon wars with Pulse," Dysley told them, and Fang's knuckles whitened as she tightened her grasp on her lance. "There can be no end to such conflict. But Cocoon's end is imminent and inevitable. Will you not at least slay Orphan, and make it quick? As an act of mercy?"

 _"Mercy?"_ Lightning demanded, and she sounded outraged at the way Dysley had so blatantly misrepresented the situation. "You mean murder. And Cocoon won't die. We're not here for that. We came for you." Lightning levelled her weapon at Dysley, not wavering for a second. 

Dysley sighed heavily, as if it had been too much to hope that they'd all come to their senses. "Such wilful insolence. Disappointing." Dysley moved his hands once, and his human form rose up in the air. He looked down on them in contempt, like they were children. Like they were _animals._ "You prolong Cocoon's suffering. And to what end? Refusing me but condemns another to face your Focus tomorrow. If you truly seek salvation, you will obey!"

Fang was running for Barthandelus before he stopped speaking, before the bulk of the machine body even touched the ground, pushing herself faster and harder. She had to be better than ever, let her pent up strength wreak havoc, to be _everywhere_ at once. There was too much on the line to lose out now. She wasn't going to _lose_ them.

###

 _Should have taken out that damn bird first,_ Lightning told herself angrily, the full impact of their mistake beginning to sink in. Despite how the fal'Cie had groaned as it had sank down – as if in ecstasy – they had really believed that they were done with the puppeteer behind all the wars, the hatred and the awful Focus. Around her, the other l'Cie had begun to smile and celebrate, Fang had actually been smiling, and then - 

"We are the Abandoned One, born but now to die. Our name is Orphan. By our hand, the world shall know redemption."

Lightning stared up at the fal'Cie Barthandelus – no, not Barthandelus any more – and wondered if this had all been a part of Dysley's trap for them. The ground was still shaking, and even she had to admit that sight of that monster rising above them was nothing short of terrifying. The dull ache of the brand on her chest grew sharper, and she clutched at it, recoiling slightly at the heat.

The brand knew what it wanted, it hungered for it with strands that reached into her mind. Lightning looked back up at the fal'Cie, her jaw clenching and stubbornly resisting the urge to reach for the deeper magic in her, for Ragnarok. Her grip on her weapon tightened. They'd gone to the Cradle to stop the madness, to reason with Orphan, even to protect it. Now, it looked as if Orphan had been in on it the whole time, and what the hell were they meant to do? The way back was sealed off, and that thing would either kill them or be killed. 

Lightning's breath picked up as Orphan laughed darkly and rose above them again, and they didn't have a chance to react as the fal'Cie countered with magic to drive them down and force them to yield. The first blow of dark and crackling magic sent Lightning staggering. Out of the corner of her eye, Lightning saw it force Snow to his knees, and behind her Sazh cried out in agony. 

Lightning looked up at the fal'Cie through her bangs, her breath coming in unsteady gasps. They really had no choice. They had to fight this thing, their own wills be damned. Maybe they could try to knock some sense into Orphan, but her brand was strangling her and she felt like she was choking. Her skin prickled with sudden sweat, her breath shortening even further. 

Orphan and Barthandelus had been playing with them, all this time. The two fal'Cie had manipulated them, had made them believe that maybe they could fight their fate, made them believe that victory would be within their grasp. Then the fal'Cie simply snatched it away in a single calculating move.

Maybe Fang had been right. Maybe she and Snow had simply been setting everyone up for failure. Maybe it had all been a part of Orphan's plan. The next blow of agonising magic caught Lightning hard, and the sheer power in the magic was enough to paralyse her. Around her, she heard Vanille whimper and Hope crash to the ground. That was the nearly the last of them, except-

_To save a people beyond salvation, there is only Ragnarok._

That was the truth of Barthandelus' words, and Ragnarok and stasis was the only mercy they would get from a Focus too awful to think about. Somewhere ahead of her, she heard Fang roar once in defiance, seeming to be the only one still standing. Lightning knew what she'd agreed to, back in Oerba. Eden, she knew. Despite giving her word, despite knowing that it might have been their last shot, Lightning could not accept that kind of mercy. Not from Barthandelus, not from Orphan, and not from Fang, either. 

"Have you ever paused to consider our reason for making l'Cie of men?" Orphan demanded of them all, and as Lightning tried to rise up and defend Fang from their venom, she realised that she still couldn't move.

###

Fang was only barely remaining standing, and she felt herself begin to sway with exhaustion. Orphan's spell had managed to fell the others, but somehow she alone had remained defiant. She couldn't bring herself to look back at them, because seeing them down for the count and shattered under Orphan's magic would probably cause her to finally break. Fang's teeth bared even as she gasped for breath. She couldn't break, not yet. Not with so much on the line!

"We fal'Cie are crafted for a single purpose, and granted finite power to that end." Orphan's voice filled the now-silent chamber, reverberating through the floor and wrapping around Fang. Their words were everywhere, and she shook her head stubbornly. "With men it is not so. Men dream, aspire, and through indomitable force of will achieve the impossible. Your power is beyond measure. We take l'Cie so that we might wield such strength. Through you, we obtain freedom from our bondage. And now, your Focus alone remains."

Indomitable force of will? Fang still couldn't look at her fellow l'Cie. If their will was meant to be so _indomitable,_ then why had they fallen and left her to fight alone? Fang looked up at Orphan then, at the awful amalgamation of Barthandelus and the battery of Cocoon, feeling nothing but loathing and anger that they would mock them all so. She heard Vanille moving stirring behind her, climbing to her feet, but Fang eyes were locked on the target.

"Defy it, and all will be for naught." Orphan raised one huge, twisted hand towards the other l'Cie, the red eye calculating and _knowing._ Fang heard Vanille begin to scream, and she couldn't look away any longer. "Cocoon's sacrifice, and that of Gran Pulse as well..."

"Vanille!" Fang shouted, turning fully but still unable to force her body into decisive action. Vanille was her sister, and she looked on in horror as Orphan targeted that which was the most precious to her, again and again. Gran Pulse, Oerba, her family, Lightning, and now Vanille?

"Yet, if we but summon the Maker, we will be granted the chance to begin anew." The fal'Cie waved a hand, dark light gathering at their fingertips, and Vanille lifted up out of Fang's reach. "All our sins absolved and the world born anew!" 

"Stop it!" Fang begged them, her voice cracking in alarm as Vanille's screams of agony only grew. Vanille was hurting and she was all Fang could see. 

"Submit, l'Cie!" Orphan demanded in that awful three-layered voice, and Fang struggled to force herself to stand. "Become Ragnarok! Lead us into the light!"

"Let her go!" Fang reached out for Vanille, because if Orphan killed her then Fang would have nothing left. A part of her noted that it was probably all part of Orphan's plan to drive out Ragnarok anyway, she noted vaguely. If they killed Vanille, then they would find their plans useless – once she was done ending the world, not even the Maker itself would be safe from her wrath, crystal stasis and this Door of Souls be damned. 

Orphan's eye narrowed, as if it already knew her thoughts. "We have no need of flawed l'Cie."

They were right, of course. Fang had failed to destroy Orphan and Cocoon once, already. Looking around at her fallen family, looking back at the agony she'd caused and the damage she'd wrought... Fang would _not_ fail again. Her heart slowly hardened with new resolve, and it felt awful. This wasn't a threat or wishful thoughts of 'should'. It was action and the will to follow through. 

"Orphan!" Fang said, loud enough to be heard over the crackle of burning magic and Vanille's cries. Her voice was flat and even. "I'll do it! I'll destroy you."

The words were a betrayal and a relief as she spoke them, and she felt Orphan's red eye on her again. She stared them down, her grip tightening on her lance. They released Vanille with a sneer, and she fell to the ground like some broken plaything. 

"Ragnarok." Orphan nearly whispered the name in reverence, and Fang shivered. "The will to guide a world unto oblivion. Can you bear the sin of our salvation?"

Fang looked to the side, just once. Destroy everything for the sake of those she loved... 

"You heard me," Fang said, her voice growing stronger as she made her bargain. Save everything and become Ragnarok? Then that was the price she paid, and she'd pay it gladly. She'd done it once already. "I said I'll do it!"

"You can't!" Vanille cried out from behind her, reaching for Fang as if her platitudes and begging would do anything at this stage in the game. "I'll be fine! And you can't forget our promise! We promised to save Cocoon! We _promised!"_

Fang squeezed her eyes shut as Vanille's accusations and disappointment hammered against her, and she turned her weapon against Vanille to silence her. 

The promises, the betrayal… It didn't _matter._ As Fang turned to Vanille, all she wanted to do was to break down and let her own horror and terror pour out. She wished with all her heart that she'd been able to continue believing in Lightning's 'fighting the Focus' bullshit, that it all hadn't been some incredible delusion. She wished Snow and Lightning had been right. She wished that she'd been able to reach that future she'd wanted so badly. 

But it all boiled down to one moment, one act, and that was Ragnarok. Just the way Fang had always believed. She heard the others begin to stir, but it was too damn late. They'd put her in this position. Their fight with Orphan had proven, without a doubt, that there was _nothing_ left that could save them. 

Fang's anger spiked – and _Lightning._ Lightning had not even seen fit to follow through with their promise. 

"I made another promise, too. To protect my family." Fang had to follow through with that, no matter how it hurt and how much it cost her. With an steadiness that belied the fear and desperation running riot through her mind, Fang drew her weapon back. She'd strike Vanille down, knock her out so that she would never have to bear witness to that transformation again. "Sometimes, you've got to choose!

The speed at which Snow lunged forward and threw himself between Fang and Vanille beggared belief, and he caught Fang's weapon in his arms. Fang's anger roared to life – Snow, that _fucking idiot._ It was his fault they were even in this mess! If it hadn't been for him, if he hadn't been putting stupid dreams in everyone's heads, then they might have been through with Orphan by now! 

"Back off!" Fang snarled at him, trying to pry her weapon from his grip, but the man clung on like his life depended on it. 

"What are you doing-" Snow demanded through clenched teeth, and just as Fang thought she had him sorted, she felt another person's arms lock around her waist, as if that would do _anything._

Fang looked back, her mouth twisting.

"This ain't the time to be losing it, lady!" Sazh told her tightly. Of course it was Sazh. The man wouldn't know a proper hold even if his life depended on it!

Fang's family always got up to stop her, for better or worse. Even at the end of everything, that was one constant that never seemed to change. Had Orphan released them from his spell to force her to fight them? Did he think that striking them all down would make her hurt even more? Fang's throat felt raw and her eyes burned, but she couldn't stop now. 

She threw Snow away with a roar, and her arms now free, she pried Sazh from her back and kicked him to the ground. They were lucky they got away with just that, but when Fang looked back to Vanille, it seemed like she'd delayed too long. Lightning and Hope had struggled to their feet while she'd fought with Snow and Sazh, and they'd placed themselves in front of Vanille protectively. 

"What do you gain from hurting Vanille? We're in this together!" Lightning told her. A little viciously, Fang noted that Lightning hadn't been so keen on protecting Vanille a few days ago. Now that it suited her purpose, things were different. Just like what Lightning had promised back in Oerba. 

"This is my Focus." Fang's voice shook a little, and she drew her weapon back, preparing to gather her power for one final strike. If they were going to stand against her, then she'd have to incapacitate them all. "No one's gonna stop me!"

Fang felt her power coil inside her, forgotten fire burning somewhere deep in her stomach as launched herself up and away from the disbelieving stares of the rest of the l'Cie. Power gathered at her lance's tip, but Orphan's tail was moving. _Why?_ Fang had an instant to frown before the magic scorched her, and then she was streaking downwards. Fang impacted on the floor of the Cradle, shock-waves of dark energy stretching out. 

Her eyes wide, her breath ragged and her heart pounding, she watched as the rest of the l'Cie fell. She watched as the brands began to glow and erupt and then it all hit home. Her fellow l'Cie fell at her blow, and they rose again as cie'th. It was her worst nightmare, and what was more, _Fang_ had turned them. 

"Everything I do – why? Is this what you meant to happen?" Fang demanded of them – Snow, Lightning, everyone. As she watched the monsters around her begin to rise, she couldn't even stay angry at them. They were gone. What good did all her anger do against them now? "All of 'em..."

Even in spite of her promise, her intentions – Fang hadn't even been able to stop them from turning cie'th by agreeing to be Ragnarok. Fang's breath sobbed as she watched them all ignore the weapons they'd cared for so well in life. She really shouldn't have been surprised that Orphan would be so cruel. She wished she no longer felt at all, and her grip slackened on her weapon. 

Behind her, Orphan was _laughing._

"After all we went through!" Vanille cried out, and from where she stood before Orphan, Fang could hear her sobbing. She couldn't move forward to comfort her sister, because she was still so horrified at what she'd done to them. She heard the thudding footsteps of the cie'th approach, and she knew better than to expect recognition or mercy from the monsters that had once been her family. 

They struck her with crystal-barbed clubs in place of hands and she realised vaguely that she couldn't bring herself to raise her weapon to fend them off. Even after all she'd claimed, she still couldn't take them out. 

"Guess I deserve it, after what I did!" _Sazh, Hope, Snow, Lightning..._ Fang looked up at Orphan's cruel red eye, coughing as the wind was knocked from her lungs by the cie'th's strikes. "Are they my sin to bear for choosing salvation?"

She couldn't take it any more – she fell to her knees with a groan, unable force herself to stay standing. They all fell with her, piling on top of her and beneath the crushing weight of crystal and flesh, Fang swallowed rawness and tears. She'd been set up and knocked down all her life. This would be the last time, because now she'd lost everything to Orphan. Gran Pulse. Family. Lightning. Choice. Dreams. It was enough to send anyone off the deep end, and as strong as she'd tried to be for them, she was only human. 

Fang felt agony in her shoulder as her brand erupted, residual magic flinging the cie'th away from her and it hurt like nothing she'd ever felt before. It wiped out all thought.

Familiar sensation crawled through her veins, power coiling again in her stomach and flowing from her in waves. She could hear Orphan talking, _always talking,_ but she was no longer listening to them. Ragnarok was madness, despair and destruction personified. That was all she felt, and she wasn't Fang any more as she lunged forward with a snarl to attack.

###

Everything was dark, and Lightning felt as if she was moving at unbelievable speeds through empty space. Voices streamed by, snatches of half-remembered conversation and images from her past. Her parents, alive and happy. She remembered slamming her door on them on one rainy afternoon, remembered angrily shoving Serah out there with them because she hadn't wanted to deal with them all. She'd not been much older than fourteen, and she hadn't known that her time with her parents was growing short. 

Hazy sensation filled her mind, the darkness around her easing as the light grew. 

She'd taken another name when she'd lost her parents, not caring what she'd eventually lost of herself in the process. She didn't remember her own tears, but she remembered Serah's. She remembered being driven forward by something, and even now the feeling was like hooks buried in her chest, pulling her along. It was a focus-point, and it filled her with an awful drive that would not let her be. In the darkness and surrounded by warped and flickering images of her past, that drive and hunger for _something_ was all she could think of. 

It all blurred faster now. A promotion and fireworks, the knife on her birthday. Lightning flinched as the image of the fal'Cie Anima reached out for her again, and the memory of the Ragnarok dreams they'd all shared seared in her mind, and Ragnarok tore apart Cocoon, heedless of the lives lost. There were those scared grey eyes at Palumpolum, reminding Lightning of failure and betrayal, before there was a flash of blue and a knife shining in the sunset. There was free-falling and fire-lit green eyes, a crystal tear. There was laughter with others in a run-down village. There was the sensation of lips on her own, freezing water -

The Focus was meant to be everything, the one driving point that spurred l'Cie forwards until it was met or it consumed them. It was _meant_ to be everything, but Lightning realised then that it _wasn't._ There were people, things, ideas and places that were far more important to her, things that were worth defying everything til the last, and the barbs in her chest seemed to ease and fade. 

Lightning's eyes snapped open to brilliant afternoon sunlight and a warm breeze. Her fingertips brushed her chest, feeling for the mark that had been so vividly on her mind since Lake Bresha. Somehow, that l'Cie brand was no longer _there,_ and Lightning felt her shoulders sag in relief. The how and why of it was not immediately apparent, and Lightning squinted up at the crystal pillar above her, raising a hand to shield her burning eyes. 

Blinking back the spots in her vision and shaking her head, Lightning felt as though someone suddenly flipped a switch in her mind and cranked up the volume, because suddenly she could see the rest of the l'Cie around her. Fang, Vanille, Snow, Hope, Sazh, a little boy that had to be Sazh's son and – _Serah._ They were all smiling and laughing amongst themselves, and Lightning's heart ached as she fought the urge to join them. 

The sight of them all together was everything that Lightning had wanted for the future, and everything that really mattered. They'd somehow won, and Lightning wondered what the crystal pillar had to do with it all. 

She looked back up at the pillar, trying to pick out the strange design etched into its surface. It hit her like a suckerpunch to her gut, and Lightning's eyes widened and her mouth suddenly felt dry. Lightning whirled, her eyes searching for Fang. The woman wasn't there any more, and neither was Vanille, and with a cold certainty, Lightning looked back up at the pillar. 

Everything felt clear, and the warmth and happiness she's felt only moments had evaporated in the space of a second. 

_Fang. Cocoon. Ragnarok._

She remembered seeing Fang's back as she stood alone against Orphan. She remembered defending Vanille, and the burning feeling of her brand erupting and all control fleeing her. Fang was still fighting Orphan, still trying to win them their freedom, and Lightning would be damned if she'd let her do it alone again.

###

Fang awoke with a ragged gasp, wincing as her lungs burned and her head pounded. She twitched, trying to move but finding that she couldn't. Etro, but she didn't recall feeling this awful last time, but more familiar was the feeling exposed rawness in her mind. It was like she'd been ripped open and laid bare, and what did she have to show for her troubles?

"Yet again."

Fang's eyes cracked open reluctantly. That voice meant that Orphan was still there, still waiting. Still _alive._ Half-formed memories of violence and madness flashed through Fang's mind, like stunning moments of clarity buried under Ragnarok's all-consuming hunger. Fang tried to shake them away, but they clung to her like cobwebs. 

"How many times must you fail?" Orphan asked above her, and cooling magic suffused her for a moment even as some _other_ magic forced her upwards. Her family had become cie'th. Even turning Ragnarok hadn't done her any good in the end, because she'd managed to fail again. She let the fal'Cie's magic lift her through the air, wrapping her in bindings of dark light, because she didn't have the strength or will to fight this monster any longer.

"Let me go." Fang barely recognised her own voice, hoarse and broken to her own ears. 

"Retake the form of Ragnarok," Orphan demanded of her, their multi-layered voice like nails on a chalkboard. Fang squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the words out. "Deliver us which we have been to long denied!"

White hot agony burned through her as Orphan's magic scoured her, and Fang couldn't hold back the scream. The pain seemed to last forever, wracking her until she couldn't move, until she wanted to die and leave the world to its fate. All she could see were sparks dancing against blackness, and Fang knew that she'd been only a breath away from having that wish fulfilled when cooling magic soothed the fire in her veins. 

Fang cracked an eye open, looking up at that awful red eye. This close, it looked like the eye on the brand. She felt ill. 

_I wish you were here to pull me up, one last time._

"What do you want?" Fang's eyes lost focus, and agony wracked her again. And again. Orphan held her on the brink of death, as if the cruelty would do any damned good! Fang slumped as the fal'Cie's magic drenched her. She was no longer sure what was worse – the pain that came with the black magic, or the dread that came with the healing. 

"Steep yourself in hatred," Orphan ordered, and they seemed to be smiling. "Let it infuse you with the strength it craves."

The sound of footfalls, soft and cautious, reached Fang's ears in the chaos of all the pain and magic. Fang's eyes fluttered open – with the rest gone, it could only be Vanille. Fang had thought Vanille had been taken out, unconscious from the force of Fang's transformation. Orphan heard it too, and they paused for a moment in their sick cycle of torment, that red eye flicking down to somewhere behind Fang, three sets of lips each curling into a smile. 

"Your awakening demands an offering of pain!" 

Fang flinched, and she finally understood _exactly_ how Orphan would make her hurt one final time. Would Vanille's death finally be enough to give Fang the strength to do what had to be done? She didn't want Orphan to chance that.

"Vanille..." Fang rasped out, hoping that her words would reach her sister. _"Run."_

"No!" Vanille's voice sounded frightened, but determined. Fang's heart sank, and she flexed her fingers against the bonds Orphan held her in. No good... "I swore I wouldn't run away any more! I'd rather fight and lose than give up without even trying!"

 _Stupid girl..._ Fang closed her eyes, waiting for Orphan to lash out and take Vanille, too. _I can't save you any more. Couldn't save anyone, really._

Lightning, Snow, Sazh, Hope. They were all gone in a flash, like they'd never even been there. They'd abandoned Fang to the horrific reality of the Focus, and if Vanille had her way, she'd be gone too. Once that happened, Fang really would be alone with Orphan, to somehow find it in her to end the world. Haziness seized her mind now that Orphan's attention was no longer on her, and she felt herself slipping down into unconsciousness and hopefully something deeper -

An explosion tore through the air, a dull roar to Fang's ears, and the fact that she was then falling no longer seemed to matter at all. Fang thought she heard Vanille cry out for her, and something – somebody – warm and solid caught her before she hit the ground. Fang heard Snow – _Snow?_ – grunt as he bore her full weight. She tried to open her eyes, but it felt like they were gummed shut.

"Miracles out of misery. You've got to be kidding me." That was Sazh. Not just Snow, but Sazh. Perhaps Fang really had died in Orphan's clutches, but if she got to see them all again...

"Yeah, Fang." Hope's voice sounded to her left, and healing magic rushed through her veins. Fang tried not to baulk at the sensation, after what Orphan had done to her. "Who'd be dumb enough to swallow that crock?" 

Dumb _crock?_ It couldn't be real. Fang slowly swung herself down from Snow's arms, bracing herself against him a little. After everything Orphan had done to her, she still felt unsteady on her feet, and her head was spinning enough to make her feel like she was going to hurl. She forced it down and away from her mind. Vanille was running forward, her eyes wide and her smile even wider. Behind her, Orphan burned and writhed in agony. Who had done that...?

"Sure, we've all had better weeks." Fang's head snapped around as she heard the last voice – Lightning approached the group, looking confident and as unruffled as ever, as if she'd never been a cie'th at all. Fang watched her move, every her eyes drawing in every inch, and undeniably it _was_ Lightning because there was nobody else could imitate that unique mixture of hot-cold. Lightning had Fang's weapon in one hand and her blazefire saber in the other, and her eyes were warm as she came to a stop before Fang. Fang's mouth felt dry, and she swallowed unsteadily.

It was Lightning and the others, sure. But Fang didn't understand how. 

"You're alive!" Vanille didn't so much as ask but exclaim, as if this turn of events was not so surprising after all. 

"But you _can't_ be!" Fang's voice was still rough and harsh from the torture and her exhaustion, and she still felt so raw and exposed. They couldn't be there. They just _couldn't._ She saw them turn cie'th, she'd felt them attack her. She still had the bruises and blood on her! They'd been _cie'th._

Lightning shrugged, seeming to accept the events much the same as Vanille had. "Could be more fal'Cie smoke and mirrors." 

Fang stared at her, momentarily silenced by the deliberate simplicity of the explanation. It was a bullshit excuse, but that sort of bullshit excuse was exactly the kind that Lightning _would_ give. Fang had to give her points for consistency, there. 

"Fang, I'm sorry," Snow said softly, and Fang watched him shake his head. 

"We made you go it alone." Lightning certainly sounded sorry. Fang felt her throat begin to hurt as Lightning held out the weapon, waiting. Sure, they might have made Fang go it alone in the end, but seeing them again, _now,_ made all that pain and all that desperation seem to fade away. 

"Second time now, isn't it?" Fang asked quietly. Well, second time she'd been so dramatically hauled to her feet, by Lightning, in front of everyone. Fang shook her head, still feeling like none of it could be real, and that at any moment she'd wake up in Orphan's bonds again, because this whole situation defied all possibility. But they were still there, still smiling, still with her and looking like this time they always _would_ be. Fang accepted her weapon back from Lightning's grasp with a nod, her gaze flickering up to meet Lightning's. 

Maybe they'd both been wrong in how events would go down – what mattered was that they were finally on the same page. 

"But... where were you?" Vanille asked from behind Fang, and Fang turned slightly to offer her sister an exhausted smile and accepted an arm to lean on – just for a bit. 

"Somewhere cold and dark, just thinking about everything up until now. And then..." Hope shook his head, as if he was unable to explain it. "And then it was like-"

"It was like I had a glimpse of the future," Snow cut in, his eyes distant and a smile on his face as he cast his mind back. "Everyone was smiling and laughing. Even Serah. Even Light."

Fang looked back across at Lightning, feeling that familiar tug in her chest as she noted the way Lightning's lips had quirked at Snow's words. It... was a nice dream.

"I don't know. It was a new Focus, or something. Didn't really make sense. I mean, knowing we were worm bait and all, but..." Sazh said, rubbing a hand through his hair, still looking perplexed as he tried to sort out his thoughts. "As luck would have it, next thing I know I feel somebody pushing me right along."

"You were there too, Fang. Same side. All of us." Lightning's voice was firm, and it dragged Fang's attention back to her. Fang couldn't say she minded that. "Together to the end."

Behind them all, ignored but not forgotten, Orphan began to scream and Fang shot a wary look back over her shoulder. The other l'Cie rallied around her, and she felt the ghost of Lightning's touch on her tattooed shoulder as they all watched Orphan sink down, their latest shell dying and fragmenting as the magic binding them together began to run dry. It wasn't over, the deep ache in her brand told her. 

There was still work to be done. 

"The heroes never die." Snow paused then, grinning around at them all, and assumed a battle stance as the ground began to shake. "Come on. We've got a world to save!"

"If we have the power to destroy Cocoon, then we have the power to save it," Hope reminded them, though frankly Fang was unsure how exactly Hope had that all figured. "You say you want your Day of Wrath, do you? Well it's coming right up!"

Fang heard Lightning snort softly, and felt her own lips twitch in response. So that was how it was? Take out that murderous bastard, and then worry about saving Cocoon? 

"Time we gave the people what they really wanted." Sazh was quiet, as if he understood the short-sightedness of the plan, but would go along with it anyhow. Well, if the old man wanted to finish Orphan once and for all, Fang was hardly one to complain. 

"We can do it. I know we can." Vanille's voice was stronger, and her green eyes were determined. The shadows were gone and it made Fang's heart ache. "We made it this far – let's make a real miracle happen!"

"Lady Luck sure ain't on his side!" Fang felt her smile widen into a feral grin, and it felt real as she assumed her place beside them all. She felt like she'd been born again, like she – _they_ – really could do anything. Even if that 'anything' was to fight their fate and to spit right in the face of the fal'Cie, because somehow they were alive and well. 

Before them, Orphan's true form rose up, seeming smaller and less threatening than Fang had imagined. 

They'd all fight their fate together, and beyond that? They'd kick Orphan's arse and save Cocoon on top of it all. Impossible? Sure. That was what they did, and it'd all work out somehow. The proof was right in front of her.

###

Maybe it was the knowledge that the other l'Cie had actually had the gall to return from a fate she'd feared for so long. Maybe it was the feeling of blood pounding in her ears, or maybe that she had hope for the future. No matter what it was, the feeling of synergy between them all – with Vanille, with Lightning, with _all_ of them – as they stood their ground against Orphan was nothing short of amazing. 

The ground just to Fang's left erupted in a burst of silver magic, and Fang felt her blood thrill as Sazh's haste spell settled over her and the battle became a blur as she streaked past where Snow was charging in for a vicious attack. Spells of all four elements whizzed by just a hair's breadth away from her cheek as Hope worked on lowering Orphan's shield. As Hope's final Blizzaga landed, the shields seemed to implode on Orphan, and with a grin, Fang whipped her lance forward and dragged the razor edge across Orphan's delicate features. 

The fal'Cie screamed at her, and as Fang felt magic coil for a brutal counter strike, she launched herself up and away from Orphan's face. Snow caught her on her way past, and he grabbed her outstretched hand and flung her backwards. Instead, he bore the full brunt of the hail of silver magic with a roar. 

Fang stumbled backwards, the haste spell rapidly faded and leaving her feeling light-headed from her exhaustion. Fang shook her head, trying to clear the dark spots dancing in front of her eyes. They were nearly there – she had to last the distance this time! 

She jumped as cool magic washed her, and she looked over her shoulder to where Lightning stood. Fang nodded to her in thanks, trying not to become distracted by the memory of the healing and torture she'd suffered. Lightning smirked, jerked her head toward Orphan, and they both sprinted forward. Lightning reached Orphan first, the force of her resulting strike raising sparks as her blade whipped along the length of Orphan's features. 

Now that that damnable shield was down, it wasn't really a fight, Fang realised. It was a wrecking, and it felt right that Fang was the one to finally ram her weapon through and into the delicate machinery behind Orphan's face. Five hundred years in the making, Fang finally completed her Focus. 

_Take that, Anima,_ she thought a little vindictively, as Orphan began to scream and the cogs began to spark around her weapon. Vicious glee or not, Fang noted that fulfilling her Focus had felt far less satisfying than she'd imagined. There was no relief, there was no joy, because now she knew that her task wasn't going to end just yet. Fang launched herself from Orphan's dying shell, stumbling a little as she landed. She feeling a hand reach out to steady her, and she knew without looking that it was Lightning. 

Orphan did not die easily or quietly, and from the way the Cradle began to shake, it'd take Cocoon with it. 

Fang felt Lightning's hand squeeze her shoulder and felt Vanille grab her other hand. Snow and Hope stared up at the erupting fal'Cie with awe, and behind her, Fang heard Sazh sigh as reality set in.

_Like it or not, we've fulfilled our Focus. Now what?_

###

Lightning noted that the gravity was the first thing to go, followed quickly by the lights, the heat, and then the air. The whole of Cocoon seemed to tremor as the effects of Orphan's demise took its toll. She saw the final question reflected in the eyes of the other l'Cie around her - _now what?_ Lightning's mind began to work overtime as she tried to formulate one last plan to get them through. 

_Your power is beyond measure._ Orphan's multi-layered voice resonated in her mind, but it gave her no answers. Small as they were, how could they stop one planetary body from smashing into another? It was an impossible task with the tools they had, and Lightning began to wonder if there really was a way to save Cocoon, now that they'd done the unthinkable and slain Orphan. 

_What choice did we have?_ Lightning asked herself, her jaw clenching. She had to keep thinking, but the worst thing she could do was to let the others scatter and fall to Pulse alone. She raised her voice and told the other l'Cie, "Stay together!"

"Hey, grab my hand!" Sazh was the first one at her side, and he dragged Snow along by the sleeve of his coat. Lightning grabbed onto his outstretched hand, before reaching out for Hope's. They floated together in zero gravity and rapidly-thinning air as Cocoon fell away from them. She kept her eyes fixed on her family, trying to reassure them one final time and trying futilely to put some sort of plan into action. 

Lightning was so preoccupied that she didn't notice them missing until Snow shouted for Fang and Vanille. Lightning tore her eyes away from Hope and looked down, back to the smashed innards of the Cradle. She felt her heart leap into her throat as she caught the familiar flash of blue against the glow of light, and suddenly she felt nauseous. Fang and Vanille had not joined the group, for whatever reason. There _had_ to be a reason, Lightning told herself with a growing feeling of panic. 

Lightning suddenly felt cold. She knew that she was not going to like that reason, whatever it was.

###

Fang watched the lights go out all over Cocoon, feeling an odd mix of pride and sadness. They'd all had the chance to fight their fate, and they'd all done a right job of it. Fang looked up, to where Lightning and the rest of the l'Cie drifted up and away from Cocoon's falling wreckage.

She cared for Lightning, so much. Who was she kidding? It really did feel like she would betray those feelings if she went through with her half-formed plan. But this was a choice between a rock and a hard place! If she did nothing, then her family died. She would rather throw her own life and freedom away to save them and for a chance to stick it to Orphan one last time, even if it would hurt. 

Fang's mouth twisted painfully. At least she'd give Lightning and the rest of their family the chance to live out those dreams that had given them so much hope. It was the least she could do after everything. She just wished that she'd been able to be there to enjoy it _with_ Lightning...

Fang was surprised, though, to find that Vanille had remained by her side. 

"Vanille?" Fang questioned, because there was no going back from what Fang would attempt. Etro, but it might not even work! She could have don this alone, but it was reassuring to have Vanille there with her at the very end.

"Ready." Vanille nodded, her eyes full of trust and understanding. Yeah, Vanille knew the price just as well as Fang did. In a case like this when there was no more time and no more options, they were both willing to pay that price. Vanille reached out and gently took her hands, and Fang shot one final wistful look up to Lightning. 

Ragnarok subsumed them both, and then all Fang could see was a brilliant white light.

###

Everything was dark, quiet and still. When Lightning's mind surfaced for an instant, she felt sluggish and over-warm, and it felt like she had been sleeping for far too long. Her grip on consciousness was tenuous, and it slipped away from her too easily. After the chaos of the Cradle and everything that had gone before it, she couldn't say she minded. Perhaps just going back to sleep was for the best. 

Cocoon had been saved – Lightning knew that implicitly, even if she didn't really understand _how_ – but Fang and Vanille were gone. Her awareness began to fade, and she wondered if there was really anything left out there in the world, if there was a point to waking up at all.

Something light and airy flitted through her mind, like sunlight across her eyelids, and it seemed to be around her all at once. There was a darkness, too, and suddenly sleep didn't seem so incredibly attractive. She felt restless. She felt -

"Wake up." Vanille resonated in Lightning's mind, just the one time, and there was a flash of sunlight and greenery before the presence fled. The dark shadow in her wake _had_ to be Fang, and Fang had not even seen fit to say anything. Lightning surged after them both, scrabbling for awareness and to somehow follow along and give Fang the damn piece of her mind that she deserved. They slipped away through her fingers, though, as if they were never there at all. 

Lightning opened her eyes to the riot of life – sounds, smells, sights, _sensation_ – and for perhaps the first time, Lightning was glad to see the rugged wilderness of Gran Pulse. Around her, the other l'Cie had also found their way out of crystal stasis, all seeming in awe of what they'd achieved. They'd survived the Focus, and what was more, they'd saved most of Cocoon. 

Serah returned to them, and Dajh too, and as the l'Cie began to make their way toward where the Cocoon survivors were gathering at the foot of the pillar, Lightning took a deep breath, and looked up at the crystal pillar. She squinted as the reflection of afternoon sun almost blinded her, and her mouth twisted a little. Through the _sacrifice_ of others, by losing, she had won a future for herself.

It hardly seemed fair. In the dream during the fight, she'd seen a distorted image of this future, but it wasn't the _same._ Serah was there, and Sazh's kid too, but there was no Fang and no Vanille, because they'd given their lives and freedom to save the world. They were the ones who had sacrificed and suffered the most for a happy ending, and they were not there to claim the future. 

_Fang_ was gone, just like that, and all Lightning could think of was of how much time she'd wasted with her. 

_Now she's gone, and what good did all that pride and stubbornness do you?_

Her throat felt raw as it hit home, and she ignored the troubled look Snow shot her. Serah grabbed her hand, not understanding yet but still sensing Lightning's turmoil, and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Lightning knew she wasn't facing the future alone, but at that moment it was little consolation. The future…

Lightning could see the Cocoon survivors at the base of the spire still, milling about in confusion as the remainder of PSICOM and the Corps tried to take charge. Of course, PSICOM and the Corps would need help, and doubtless they would love to have Lightning's assistance. Of course. That life and future was still waiting for her, and aside from the relocation, things could be just the way they were before everything had gone to hell and back. 

Lightning considered it. She'd get that promotion, and she could go back to following orders and living her life for others. It would be so easy to just slip back into old habits, to forget her regrets.

Now, though, the bonds of duty and requirement felt suffocating as Lightning looked back up at Cocoon again, and she couldn't help but feel a little robbed of her own dreams. Lightning didn't want that life any more, and that was clearer to her now than it had ever been before. 

_It doesn't suit you,_ Fang had said of Lightning's old name, and Lightning began to wonder if the name had been all she'd been referring to. _You've grown beyond it._

Damn Fang, but she'd been right. Same with Vanille, really. If Lightning didn't want her old life back, then she didn't have to go and take it. Lightning had the right follow her own path, and the right to a life free of regrets. 

"It's not over," Lightning told the sphere, Fang and Vanille, and she knew with a sudden certainty that it wasn't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final chapter is upcoming, and then a little something special that will be AO3-exclusive.


	11. Crystal Cocoon

Leaning against the porch of their Corps-issued cabin, Serah looked out at the crystal pillar, her arms crossed, and watched as the colours mirrored on the surface changed when the sun began to rise. The settlement was quiet, the dense forest around it only just stirring to life. The only thing that broke the silence was the sound of Snow thudding around inside their home as he prepared for the day ahead, and the occasional curse as he managed to sleepily lurch into another door frame. 

It had been nearly a year since Cocoon had almost fallen, and a year since the Purge and the beginning of Barthandelus' plan to bring back the Maker. While the people of Cocoon had survived the initial evacuation, things down on Gran Pulse had been tougher than Serah had ever imagined. Without the fal'Cie manufacturing their food, their building materials, regulating their lives and the very environment itself, everything was a struggle as humanity was suddenly left alone. 

Sanctum no longer ruled the people, and while the new government was bickered over and wrangled out, the Guardian Corps had stepped into the void left behind, and had quickly taken charge of the day-to-day law enforcement and construction efforts. 

Things had calmed down as houses and eventually whole townships had cropped up, and Serah felt like things had come as close to 'normal' as they ever would again. She and Snow lived on the edge of a beach-side settlement to the far east of the Oerban coast, out of the way but not all that far from where the crystal pillar met the ground. New Bodhum was quiet, away from the epicentre of political and military activity, and Serah liked it that way. 

Gadot wouldn't be too far away from picking Snow up for their latest salvage expedition up on Cocoon's inner shell, now that the sun was rising. Snow and Team NORA had managed to make a small business of their exploration – with Maqui's technical know-how, Gadot's piloting and Snow's crystal-altered cells allowing him to survive in places ordinary humans couldn't, they had far outstripped the Corps and PSICOM's own efforts at salvage. 

While Snow had managed to make a living off of it, Serah understood that it wasn't money or equipment or anything like that that drove Snow's efforts. He was looking for old friends. Back when she'd just woken up and didn't understand the bond that had grown between the other l'Cie, she'd asked him why he was so fixated on finding them. He'd just given her an amused look and a laugh, but he'd sobered quickly. 

"They're alone up there, Serah."

_They_ were Fang and Vanille, two people that Serah had only barely met, yet had heard so much about. 

Snow, Sazh and Hope had all told her stories about the two Pulsians that had stood with them against Orphan, two would-be enemies who had ended up saving them all. That was the way Snow had put it, and while Serah well appreciated her fiance's penchant for the dramatic, the fact that _Sazh_ had gone on to tell her so many stories had made their heroics seem so much more real. Serah almost felt like she already knew them as friends, even if she'd only ever met Vanille once and had never met Fang. 

The two Pulsians had changed everything, just by waking up. What Serah was the most concerned about was the change that they – Fang, Serah supposed – had wrought in Serah's sister, crystal pillar and new life on Pulse aside. 

Unlike the rest of the l'Cie, Lightning, had not shared stories about Fang or Vanille. The deep and lingering anger over the loss and their sacrifice had stayed all of Serah's questions for her sister, and by the time the anger had faded into acceptance, Serah felt as if she'd missed her chance to ask at all. 

Of course, Lightning seemed lighter, and maybe she smiled more often than she'd used to. She was less torn between past regrets and future fears, seeming more anchored to the present than Serah had ever known her to be, and despite the buried anger and grief, Serah knew that was genuine. Serah _liked_ that, but it didn't change the fact that she never got to see Lightning any more. 

Lightning travelled a lot, just exploring the land and transmitting her findings, but she seemed to be waiting for something. 

In more quiet moments, Serah wondered if Lightning and Snow were searching for the same thing in their own ways – but was it closure to their friends' sacrifices, or was it a desperate search to somehow beat the odds once more? 

Snow joined Serah on the porch with two mugs of coffee, and she accepted his offering with an appreciative murmur. Together, they watched the sun rise fully and stain the crystal pillar in brilliant reds and golds. Serah leaned against his shoulder, feeling warmth and a sense of solidness through the sleeve of his battered old coat. 

"Reckon your sister is around?" Snow asked her softly, wrapping his arm about her shoulders. 

"Last I heard from her was a week ago. You were there, remember?" Serah nudged him with an elbow, prompting a rueful chuckle. "She's still out there, finding all the dangers that Pulse hides. Sometimes, when she tells me about what she's seen, it scares me. Other times..."

"It sounds like damn fun?" Snow finished for her, smiling when Serah nodded. "Well, once I'm done up on Cocoon, maybe we can do a bit of adventuring of our own."

"Done..." Serah murmured, looking down at her now half-finished coffee. "You're still looking for them, right?"

"Always." Snow winked at her, then raised his cup as if in toast to the crystal pillar. "You know I'm not likely to forget something like saving the world, and they deserve to come home too."

"What if you can't?"

"No such thing as _can't,_ Miss Farron." He grinned at her, all insolent playfulness, and Serah wanted to whack him lightly on the arm. 

"You know what I mean," Serah told him with a frown, feeling like he wasn't taking the question seriously enough. It had been a question Serah hadn't wanted to have asked, but as the months had stretched on, she had to wonder. What would happen to her sister, if Fang was never found? What if she never came back? Serah thought of that deep anger and grief that had been carefully smoothed into the illusion of acceptance, and wondered if Lightning would really be okay. 

"That I can't bring them home?" Snow shrugged, not looking like he cared to think too hard about that outcome. "What are the chances what two crystal statues are all that are holding up the whole pillar, you know? We'll get them out, it's a promise."

They stood in companionable silence for a while, as Snow drained his coffee. 

"Gadot and Maqui'll be here soon," he told her quietly, and he impulsively reached out for her free hand and squeezed it. "I got a good feeling about today. That Lady Luck of Fang's, I'm sure she's in my corner right now."

"Unlike every other time, when you've said exactly that?" Serah returned his grin, then looked up at crystallised Cocoon. Fang and Vanille... "When you find them, can I come meet them?"

"Sure," he said, his voice gentle. He looked a little sad, even when he tried to smile past it. "Me, you, and Lightning. We'll all go see them together."

The rumble of approaching velocycles broke the morning stillness, and Snow's smile became a grin. Swooping down to take Serah in his arms and kissing her swiftly on the cheek, Snow released her and bent to grab his gear for the salvage. He slung the bag over his shoulder, and even though the steps were _right there,_ he vaulted off the porch. 

He ran for the velocycle as Gadot and Maqui pulled up, shouting over his shoulder, "Loveyouseeyousoonbye!"

Serah watched Snow and Team NORA roar out of sight, and sighed.

###

The rocky, narrow beach was freezing as Lightning worked her way along it, and she was grateful that the tide was going out. 

The year since the near fall of Cocoon, since Barthandelus, since _Fang,_ had dragged on for Lightning, for all that she'd tried to keep busy. She explored, mapping out the world and uncovering what old technology she could uncover in the ruins, and when she brought it back for Amodar, Team NORA or any other interested party, sure, she felt useful, like she actually had a purpose for being out there in the first place. 

Out in the middle of nowhere, on some godforsaken beach with no pretences and no place to hide, Lightning wasn't so sure her travels weren't pointless. Initially, when she'd rejected her old position in the Corps, she'd helped with salvage efforts on Cocoon, joining Snow and Team NORA as they'd dug through the rubble and crystal. She'd started out with the best intentions, but at some point she'd started to wander more and help less, even when she tried to enjoy the family that had grown around her. 

She wasn't even sure why she was out there, Lightning thought a little bitterly as she trudged through wet sand, unmindful of the waves that lapped at her boots. It felt like she was going through the motions, like she was living out someone else's dream. It felt disturbingly like giving up on that someone, but what the hell was she supposed to do about it? 

Back on Eden, travelling Gran Pulse had sounded perfect, but she was quickly learning that it wasn't travelling that she'd wanted at all, but the company. 

As she'd trawled crumbling skyscrapers and forced her way into sealed-off command centers, she'd learned more about what had happened to Gran Pulse's people. The physical evidence and records she'd only barely managed to parse with her rudimentary knowledge of Pulsian lettering seemed to point to a slow and lingering death, rather than one explosive end. She'd found logs of a civil war, information on rogue fal'Cie, even disease. 

Ragnarok, as it had turned out, was not responsible for Gran Pulse's current state. Lightning rather looked forward to seeing the look on Fang's face when Lightning showed her the evidence. 

Lightning's heart clenched a little, and she pushed aside the feeling that she'd never get to see it at all.

The old command centres had yielded the most information on the world that had been, and that was why Lightning was working her way toward the iron-clad blast door built into the side of a cliff face. The old and rusted door had only just caught her eye early that morning, as she'd crouched on the cliff's edge, trying to sketch out the curve of the coast to the west of Oerba. Now standing before the rusted storm hatch, Lightning paused for a moment and reached out. Her gloved fingers traced Pulsian lettering etched into the metal that she couldn't make out through the stain of orange rust. 

Above her, Cocoon and the crystal pillar stood in the sky, oppressive and always on her mind. Lightning tried not to think of how Fang would have snickered at her difficulty reading the strange symbols, before translating them as if she were explaining things to a complete idiot. Lightning's throat felt raw all of a sudden, and as she blasted the brittle doors open with a fire spell, she might have put a little more power into it than she had needed. 

Her jaw tightening, Lightning allowed another fire spell to condense above the palm of her hand. Without hesitation, she strode into the old command centre, wrinkling her nose a little at the rank stench of age and death. 

Dusty bones and old weapons littered the hallway before her, and automatically she knelt by the nearest of the bodies. Her gloved fingers immediately sought the bullet gouged metal beneath the dust and dirt, her fingertips skimming it for a moment as she cursed softly. She shook her hair out of her eyes as she followed what she estimated would have been the bullet's trajectory, ricochets aside. A quick scan yielded her nothing but a blank metal wall, but those were not the first bodies that she had found in such a manner. 

The fact that no one had been left to give the dead men proper burial sat uneasily with her, and Lightning hazarded a guess that, like the others had been, their deaths had been at the very end and that something – or someone – had taken it upon themselves to snuff out the last of them. 

Enemies? Traitors? Those rogue fal'Cie? She didn't understand enough of the records she found to really know for sure what had gone down in those last years. Lightning wished she'd paid a little more attention to Vanille's lessons on Pulsian language. She wished that Fang was there to ask outright. 

Climbing to her feet and wiping her hands on her trousers, Lightning began to make her way down the empty hallway, toward what she guessed would be the central command room. She didn't wonder if Fang had ever walked the halls, or if the place had been built after her time. 

The blast doors and hatches that should have blocked her path instead gaped open, like all the others had been. The command room at the end of the hallway was small, and also grazed with bullets from that unknown enemy, but it was the faded map of Gran Pulse on the wall that drew Lightning's gaze. It wasn't just a fragment, or a map that was limited to a single area of Gran Pulse. That map had to be of the whole world itself, with islands and continents even bigger than the one Cocoon's survivors had made home. 

Lightning reached out, her fingertips brushing faded and perished plastic, before withdrawing quickly. 

Perhaps there were other people out there, people who had avoided the chaos and death and survived somehow. People who knew how fal'Cie and l'Cie worked, who could tell her what triggered waking from stasis, why Lightning had woken up while Fang had not. She tried not to wonder if Fang simply didn't want to wake up, and she pushed those feelings aside because they were of no use to her now. 

_Fang._

The radio on her hip crackled to life, and for once Lightning was glad that nobody had been around to see her jump at the sudden noise. 

_"Hey, Sis. You about?"_ Snow's voice was distorted, but Lightning had to commend Snow's engineer kid for making a radio out of odds and ends that still worked when she was a good twenty foot underground. 

"Snow," Lightning said, her voice abrupt and feeling just a little irritated that he had interrupted her at that moment. Why would he have contacted her? He knew the radios were for emergencies only -

_"Thought you'd want to know – we've found them."_

Lightning froze, the radio halfway to her mouth, as the last time she'd seen Fang flashed through her mind like a repeating nightmare. Orphan, falling, Ragnarok. Her heart began to pound loudly in her ears, and she sucked in a steadying breath. Her voice, thankfully, was perfectly even when she finally came through with her response. 

"I'll head for town immediately. I'll see you tomorrow."

Maps and old Pulsian mysteries be damned – Lightning had something far more important to attend to.

###

Lightning arrived back in New Bodhum under the cover of night, and with little of the usual fanfare. Most people, she'd found, were eager to hear of her travels and the world beyond the Corps' patrol perimeters, and while Lightning usually welcomed the questions, after a day's hard travel and having been driven to distraction by Snow's news, she wasn't sure she could keep a leash on her temper. 

She'd turned up on Serah's doorstep, tired and dusty, and had been relieved that when Serah opened the door, she hadn't said anything, and had simply thrown her arms around Lightning's rigid shoulders. Snow, too, seemed to pick up on the tension practically bleeding off of Lightning, and simply told her that they'd be going up onto Cocoon at first light. After nodding wearily in agreement with Snow's plans, Lightning had trudged up the short hallway to the cabin's tiny spare room. 

Tossing her travelling bag to the floor with a thud, Lightning sat uneasily on the bed that had been made up for her. She rubbed a hand across her face, feeling more drained than ever before, and she tried to let the tension escape her as she breathed out, long and slow. 

Eden, Lightning was meant to be _better_ than this now. She had tried so hard to be patient, to move on, but she supposed that Fang had always managed to mess with her emotions and force her way under Lightning's skin. Palumpolum, the Steppe, Taejin's, Oerba... The fact that her memories of Oerba had been so good made remembering them all the more painful now.

She wasn't sure if she hated Fang for doing that to her. She hated their sacrifice and the crystal pillar that shoved it in her face every damn day. She hated that she felt so alone. 

Tomorrow morning, she'd see Fang for the first time in a year, and Lightning wasn't sure what would happen. Would she lose hope and finally move on? Was that what she wanted?

Sighing, Lightning tiredly rose to her feet and went to wash up. Perhaps she'd go and spend a little time with her family. If she was back in New Bodhum for a change, then she might as well make the best of the situation.

###

In spite of her tiredness, Lightning's night was mostly sleepless. She rose well before dawn, too wired to force herself back to sleep. To her surprise, Serah was up, already seated at the rickety wooden table, eating breakfast and sipping from a mug. She looked tired but triumphant at having beaten her older sister up, and it reminded Lightning of their childhood games, back before their parents had passed. Serah's victorious smile faded as Lightning wordlessly moved to grab a stale bread roll from the bench top.

"Are you all right?" Serah asked, like she had a hundred times before. Instead of brushing her sister's worry aside with reassurances and a smile that felt fake and real all at once, Lightning paused and stopped to consider her answer.

"I'm not sure," Lightning admitted finally, moving to lean by the cabin's window. The sky was growing lighter outside, and Lightning noted with a hint of irritation that Snow was yet to haul his ass out of bed. She could see the pillar from her position at the window, and her jaw tightened as she turned her back on it. 

"Are you worried?" Serah frowned at her, her mug forgotten off to the side. 

"A little." Lightning looked down at the bread roll in her hands, unsure if she had the appetite for eating. "I'm not sure what I'll do after I... see them."

_See that there is no chance, that there is no way they'll ever wake up._

"You'll need to introduce me, you know." Serah's voice was deliberately light, and Lightning looked at her questioningly. "Properly. I want to meet my sister's girlfriend."

Lightning smiled, even as her heart began to ache with a sudden ferocity. 

"It was nothing as formal as that," Lightning told Serah, crossing the cabin's kitchen to sit at Serah's side. She accepted Serah's comforting hug, and she squeezed her offered hand once before letting it drop down. 

"Then what was it like?" Serah asked Lightning, her tone just a little bit teasing.

"Complicated," Lightning said with a sigh. Her memories of all her wasted chances with Fang were still rising up like a tidal wave inside her, and she swallowed. "Really, really complicated."

"Well... how did you feel?" Serah asked slowly, and Lightning almost laughed at the question. Of _everything_ from that dizzying month spent with Fang, the thing Lightning felt the surest of was how she felt about the other woman. 

"I loved her." Lightning's words were as true then as they had been back in Oerba, no matter the anger and grief that had followed. 

Serah was quiet for a long moment, staring down at her clasped hands. Outside, the sky steadily grew paler, and Lightning wondered if her honesty had done nothing more than worry her sister. That was a responsibility that Lightning didn't care for, no matter how stressed the events of the day would make her. 

"I'm not upset at you, so don't worry." Lightning reached over, prying one of Serah's hands free and holding it between her two. Serah still looked unhappy, so Lightning added, "I'm serious, Serah."

"I know. I just... thought you'd be happier, once we found them. That maybe you'd be able to stay in town a bit longer, spend a little time with us all. You, _and_ Snow..." Serah toyed with the mug's handle, biting her lip. "It's not that simple, is it?"

"I'll try to be around a little more." Lightning squeezed Serah's hand, and her sister looked up, her eyes a little red. "I promise."

In the room next door to the kitchen, Lightning heard Snow swear and lurch out of bed, and knew that it was almost time to go. She settled into a carefully controlled feeling of wariness, and she ignored the sad looks that Serah gave her from across the table.

###

The trip up the crystal pillar took longer than Lightning had expected, even with the improved engines that Maqui had boasted about having installed. Back during the Focus, Lightning remembered their journeys to and from Gran Pulse as being quick, but they didn't have the means to open the portals between worlds, not as Barthandelus had. The air was thin even to a l'Cie when Lightning stepped out of the craft and onto the crystallised landscape, but she declined the oxygen mask that Maqui and Gadot offered her. 

Lightning rolled her shoulders, taking a slow breath as she took in her surroundings. Her hand immediately went to her weapon as she listened to her surroundings, as Team NORA and Serah disembarked behind her. Back when she'd been salvaging with Team NORA, during those early months after the fall, her major role in the operation had been threat elimination. A number of Pulsian monsters had managed to survive the destruction and subsequent crystallisation of Cocoon, and at first they'd made all salvage efforts dangerous and foolhardy. 

As time had gone on, the monster population had dwindled, thanks to a combination of other monsters, starvation and Lightning's own blade. While few would have still survived, it did not pay to become complacent, Lightning told herself. 

The crunch of crystal underfoot made Lightning twitch and look up, and Snow grinned down at her from where he stood at her side. 

"You seem a little distracted," he said, and Lightning just snorted softly. 

"Let's get on with it." She didn't need to add that she was wound so tightly that she could hardly bear her own tension, or that she was dreading and welcoming the moment fast-approaching. Snow nodded as if she'd voiced her thoughts anyhow, and he began to lead the way through crystal wreckage, toward where Edenhall had once stood as the base of Sanctum operations. 

Gadot and Maqui remained with the airship, but to Lightning's right, Serah walked behind Snow, looking determined not to be daunted by the alien surroundings. Unlike Lightning and Snow, Serah had needed to wear the oxygen mask and equipment, as her l'Cie changes had been minor and her time under her Focus having been fleeting. 

Serah could hardly be blamed for her apprehension – the place was as silent and still as a mausoleum, and they continued onwards resolutely. 

Though the walk had to have been objectively short, for Lightning, it seemed to take an eternity. She just had to keep moving forward, one foot in front of the other. She kept telling herself that as she walked, willing it to be true. 

When compared to the ornate pillar they'd formed as Ragnarok, Fang and Vanille's own cavern was small, hard to spot and understated. The entrance to the cave was narrow, just a fissure in the side of mirror-smooth crystal, and as Lightning slid herself through the gap, she was forcefully reminded of that cavern on the Steppe. It felt as if an enormous pressure weighed down on her shoulders and chest, as if she couldn't _breathe,_ and she looked up to see them, hearing Serah squeeze in through the fissure behind her but not listening. 

Fang and Vanille were curled on their sides, all brilliant and cold crystal. They were alive but lifeless, frozen in time as they'd been before the Purge. Lightning let out her breath slowly, surprised that it didn't shake. She had a lot that she'd wanted to say, and a lot of anger that she'd wanted to vent. It all seemed to die on her lips as she took them in, and she felt -

_Determined._ Not at all like she was going to break, not like she'd been afraid of. Lightning tilted her head back, closing her eyes. She wondered if Fang was dreaming of that better tomorrow that they'd promised themselves, or if she dreamed at all. 

"Serah, the one on the right... that's Oerba Yun Fang. The one on the left is Oerba Dia Vanille, who I believe you've met before." Lightning opened her eyes, still seeing crystal, taking in the way the weak light played off the smooth surfaces of Fang's skin. It was beautiful, but nothing compared to the warm, tanned skin she'd loved so much before. 

"You two... you really did it. You went and saved everyone, even when the rest of us didn't know _how._ I know you have a bit of a martyr complex, Fang, but I can't say I'm really happy with your reward."

The silence from the crystal was deafening – what had Lightning expected? Were they listening? Could they hear her? On the off-chance that they could, she forced herself on.

"I wish you could _answer._ Stasis don't suit someone like you at all..." Lightning heard Snow or Serah shift behind her. She considered asking them to leave her for a few minutes, but decided against it. 

"I thought that seeing you like this would give me a little peace of my own. That seeing you sleep would make me stop." Lightning crossed her arms in front of her chest, her eyes narrowing as she steeled herself. "I have my answer, now. I said it back in Oerba, and I'll say it again. I'm not going to let you become another one of my regrets. Not you. Not Vanille, either. That's why I'm going to find a way to bring you back home."

She'd drag them back, if that was what it was going to take, no matter what their thoughts on it were. 

"Hold on, and I will too. I'll be damned if I have to live your dreams for you, Fang. Come back and do it yourself." Lightning took a long and deep breath, feeling herself relax now that she'd made her choice. Turning to Serah and Snow with a slight smile and resting a hand on her hip, Lightning told Snow quietly, "Thank you, Snow, for finding them."

"They were my friends, too," Snow pointed out with a chuckle, and wrapped his arm around Serah's shoulders. Lightning looked to Serah, feeling mixed on her next actions, but knowing that they had to be done.

"Serah – I've got a lot that I need to do now, and -"

Serah's eyes widened, and she quickly cut in before Lightning could get her words out. "Don't tell me you're going to be breaking your promise to me, Lightning!"

Lightning paused, suddenly a little unsure. Was Serah going to hold her to that morning's promise, even knowing how badly Lightning needed to find a way to free Fang had Vanille? Snow looked down at Serah in surprise, but when he met her eyes, unbelievably, he nodded in agreement. 

"You aren't going off by yourself, if that's what you're gonna say," Snow added, his grin flooding back in full-force, and Lightning had to frown at the two of them. What in Eden's name did they think they were doing? She couldn't believe that they were actually going to stop her from-

"You aren't going alone. We're coming along, and don't you dare say otherwise, Lightning." Serah sniffed in a feigned haughtiness from behind that oxygen mask, and Lightning wondered when her little sister had gotten to be so sure of herself. It seemed that there was a lot Lightning was missing back home, just as sure as Fang and Vanille were. 

"Fine, I won't say otherwise, then." Lightning felt her own smile tug at the corners of her mouth, and the three of them left the cavern together. As she stepped out and into the cold sunlight, Lightning had to admit that she felt happier and freer than she'd been in a very long time. The walk back to the airship seemed to take only moments, and as they boarded, Serah pulled the oxygen mask from her face with no small amount of relief. 

"So am I allowed to give Fang as much hell as you gave to Snow?" Serah asked then, just a little too innocently, and Lightning laughed. 

"I'm counting on it."

There was going to be no more doubt, and no more regrets. Lightning wouldn't just be waiting for Fang and Vanille to wake up, or for some charitable god or fal'Cie to take mercy on them. Lightning was going to go out and save them, because there were no miracles aside from the ones they built for themselves. She'd go out and do the impossible once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: The end. Two years of being largely unconvinced by the Snow/Serah pairing, and then I write a scene of their dorky-true-love romance and suddenly I'm down with it. In a fic where Snow/Serah has barely rated as a background pairing, I had an inordinate amount of fun with that scene and it was surprising. 
> 
> This fic was originally much shorter in my head when I first started writing, and was more the PWP type of fic. Then, all of a sudden – issues! Thousands of them! Okay, perhaps not thousands, but we skipped between concepts of idealised vs. actual self (Lightning's initial struggle with her attraction to Fang), issues of consent and boundaries, bias, common distortions or mechanisms like rationalisation catastrophising, rumination, bias to negativity and how all of these human factors can lead to bad choices when we don't have all the pieces of the puzzle. 
> 
> Let's be fair. I've put these two through the wringer. 
> 
> Somehow, this fic is now complete. For those who are familiar with my inability to finish a fic, well, it's as much as a surprise for me as it is for you. But it's done, with the ending that I originally intended all those years back, and while it's not a happy ending, it's hopeful. I, er, hope. 
> 
> But. While this is how I originally intended to leave the fic, people asked for a happy ending. For those that do want that happy ending... Check out the next in the fic series, "Little Need to Sleep but to Dream" which will be posted as soon as I can. It's a oneshot fic that has its own character arc and resolution, but for those who just want to leave it here, they can. 
> 
> A deep thank you to everyone that read along, reviewed, commented, fave'd, followed, or kudos'd. You guys were all awesome, and it was an honour to share my (at times) frustrating tale of human weakness and strength.

**Author's Note:**

> If you'd like updates as to current projects or just want to chat, feel free to come visit me on my tumblr: [zerrat](http://zerrat.tumblr.com/) (personal) and [zerratwritesstuff](http://zerratwritesstuff.tumblr.com) (writing)!


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